My Immortal
by Sectumsempress
Summary: Jane is murdered by Red John instead of his family and returns as a ghost to warn them of danger. But Lisbon is the only person who can see him! AU
1. Prologue

"_Death is but crossing the world, as friends do the seas, they live in one another still. For they must needs be present, that love and live in that which is omnipresent. In this divine glass they see face to face; and their converse is free, as well as pure. This is the comfort of friends, that though they may be said to die, yet their friendship and society are, in the best sense, ever present, because immortal"_

-William Penn

**Prologue**

All those months of effort, of heartbreak and anguish were in vain. My heart raced against my ribcage as the clock ticked closer to the end. The end of what? His life? Their life? Mine? Did it matter? Our lives were entangled now and the end of one would end us all. Could it really have been only a few months ago that I was dragged into this? It felt like my entire life was devoted to protecting someone who was beyond saving, not even real. And even as my efforts were wasted, my heart in tatters and I was surely going to die where I stood, I couldn't regret it. Because even though this path had lead me to my death, it had also lead me to him. To them. My family.  
I closed my eyes, taking my last breaths of life before the gunshot rang out. A child screamed in the background and it was all over.

_**Hey. Supernatural stories are something I never do but this is an idea that's been going around in my head for ages. I think this is different to all the other Mentalist AU's and I hope it isn't cliched at all. It's my first AU so please be gentle. I've only done the prologue, mostly so I can get some comments on peoples thoughts if I should do this story. **_


	2. Butterflies and Monsters

Chapter One  
_Butterflies and Monsters _

"Daddy! Daddy!"  
A four year old girl, his little girl, came tumbling into Patrick's arms clumsily knowing that he would catch her. He automatically lifted her tiny body up, blonde curls bouncing, and whirled her around, while her legs gripped around his hips securely like a koala and giggled hysterically.

He buried his face into her blonde ringlets that smelt of his wife's strawberry shampoo and of the hairspray his little girl had insisted was necessary for special events such as these.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said to Emily, rocking her back and forth.  
Emily pressed her tiny palms on either side of his face, her big blue eyes staring reproachfully into his green ones, and babbled so quickly with excitement and anxiousness that her words slurred together.

"Why was you so late Daddy? You said you's was going to be here when the big hand was on the twelve and the little hand was on the seven but the big hand was on the two and I said to Mummy that I was scared you's was going to miss my dancing but she said that…."  
He pressed his finger lightly to her lips. "Remember to breathe, baby."

Emily took a big, theatrically deep breath in and exhaled loudly for her father.

He chuckled and put her down so he could get a good look at her.

Emily was dressed in her pink leotard with a frothy tulle skirt and ballet slippers. Her golden ringlets were tied into two pigtails on the side of her head and her red cheeks were flushed with exhilaration and her eyes were wide with excitement. His wife had done her make up for her, although according to Emily, she hadn't applied nearly enough.

She slipped her tiny hand into his and led him down the aisle of plastic chairs.  
"Will you sit with Mummy?" she asked softly. "Will you sit together? So when I'm dancing you can say to each other, '_Oh, that's our darling daughter. How proud we are_!"  
"Of course we will sit next to each other," Patrick said. "Why would you ask that, princess?"

She looked at him, her big eyes narrowed and she looked just like her mother.  
"I said for you not to say that to me no more, Daddy. I'm a big girl now. I don't want to be a princess. I want to be a nurse."  
He nodded apologetically. He had heard this many times before. Although, she was always going to be his little princess. Nurse or no nurse.

"And Mummy was sad with you's today," she continued matter-of-factly while they walked. "She didn't use her inside voice. And Mummy only uses her outside voice inside when someone's been bad or when the game is on. And the game wasn't on today so you's must have been bad, Daddy!"

Patrick laughed lightly at Emily's logic. She had definitely inherited his gift to piece things together.

But truth be told, his wife had used her outside voice inside with him today which was usually against the rules.  
This morning, he had caught Emily drawing a picture of a butterfly with crayons on her bedroom wall, which was forbidden. But Emily was sure if they saw just how lovely her wall would look, they wouldn't get angry. That's why she had to draw them fast.

"No, Emily," Patrick said disapprovingly taking the crayon off of her. "The wing is shaped like this…."  
Riley came in and saw Patrick drawing on the wall.  
She used her outside voice with him.

"Welcome to the Broken Hill Pre-school Talent Night," the announcer said on the stage as the lights dimmed.  
"Hurry, Daddy," Emily hissed pulling him along.

Emily led Patrick by the hand to where his wife was sitting. Emily took her chair and patted the seat next to her and her mother.

"I saved this spot special for you, Daddy," she whispered, proudly. "I didn't take my hand off it until I sawed you and when people walked past I said 'This seat it taken. It is reserveded. My Daddy's sitting here, right next to my Mummy and me. He's going to be here when the big hand is on the…"  
"Breathe Emily," Riley whispered gently and then smiled at the husband.

"You're late," she said to him faking annoyance. "The big hand was on the two!"  
"Sorry," he whispered sitting next to her.  
He cupped her cheek with his hand and kissed her gently, melting against her with exquisite relief. Kissing Riley after not seeing her for five hours was like sinking into a hot bath after being caught in the rain, like sliding under crisp cotton sheets after an exhausting day and then when they would break apart her face would light up with the most exulting, breathtaking smile he had ever seen. And he would fall in love with her all over again.

"Daddy!" Emily whined looking around to see if any of her friends had seen her parents kissing.  
Patrick chuckled lightly brushing his hand over his daughter's hair.

"Sorry, princess."  
"Daddy, how many times do I need to says it. I don't want to be a princess, anymore. I want to be a nurse. I told you a hundred million-"  
"Shh, Emily," Riley said putting a finger to her own lips.  
Emily sucked her lips in and balled her fists up tightly, a little crease appearing between her eyebrows in fierce determination as if it were a terrible strain for her to stay quiet.

The presenters voice rang loudly across the audience. "Our first act of the night is Chloe Mason's performance of Celine Dion's '_My Heart Will Go On'_.

Polite applause welcomed on stage a little girl the same age as Emily in a glittery sequined dress, her face plastered with stage make up ("See, Mummy!" Emily hissed quietly leaning across them to look at Riley reproachfully).

Little Chloe took the microphone in both hands and began to sing. Her voice was quivery with exaggerated emotion, making the audience flinch when she hit the high notes.  
She was followed by tap-dancing twins, a magic show and a gymnastic routine.

Finally, the presenter came out and announced: "Next up, Emily Jane performing a routine she choreographed herself called _The Butterfly_!"

Riley was suddenly terrified. Choreographed it herself? She had assumed Emily would be doing something she learned at her ballet lessons. Riley's stomach felt sickly as if she were the one going up there.

"Hmm," Emily frowned, squirming on her seat with her tiny arms wrapped around her tummy.  
"Emily, honey," Patrick said. "It's your turn now."

Emily looked at him, her eyes wide and fearful. "I actually feel a bit sick."  
"All the best performers in the world feel sick, sweetie. It's a sign, it means you're going to be fantastic," Patrick said.

Riley looked at her daughter. She looked terrified. Riley suddenly felt the urge to scoop Emily up and run far away from those critical judges and scathing stage mums.

"You don't have to-" Riley began before Patrick touched her arm lightly.  
"The sick feeling will go away go away as soon as you start," he told her.

Emily looked at him with the most trusting look in her blue eyes.  
"Promise?" she whispered holding out her pinky finger.  
"Cross my heart and hope to be killed by a big fluffy bunny," he said curling his own finger around hers.  
Emily giggled. "You're so silly Daddy."

She slid down the chair and marched down the aisle towards the stage, her tulle skirt bobbing in time with her pigtails.  
Riley's heart twisted. She was so little. So alone.  
"Have you seen this routine?" Patrick asked as he adjusted the focus on a tiny camera. He made a point to document every little event in their daughter's life.  
"No, have you?" Riley asked hopefully.  
"No."

He held her hand with his free one reassuringly as they watched Emily climb the stairs and adjust her skirt nervously.

Emily went to the middle of the stage. Her head was down and she had her arms wrapped around her tiny body. The music started and Emily slowly opened one eye and then the other. She yawned enormously, wriggled and squirmed. She was a caterpillar emerging sleepily from her cocoon. Emily looked over her shoulder, pretending to catch sight of her wings for the first time. Her mouth dropped comically and the audience laughed.

She looked over her other shoulder and staggered with delight. She was a butterfly! Emily fluttered this ways and that, trying out her new wings, falling over at first and then finally getting the hang of it. It was true, she wasn't always in time with the music and her dance moves were, well, quite unusual but her facial expressions were priceless.

Riley was certain that there had never been a cuter performance of the butterfly.  
By the time the music had stopped, Patrick was filled with pride. He looked about the audience and saw that people were smiling and clapping, clearly charmed, although they were perhaps holding themselves back as to not make the other performers feel bad.

Emily came running towards her parents, her face flushed with delight.  
"Was I good?" she asked. "Was I excellent."  
"You were the best," Patrick said. "Everybody is saying we may as well pack up and go home now that Emily Jane has performed.  
Emily giggled and was lifted into a hug.  
"Love you Daddy," she said resting her head on his shoulder.  
"Love you too, sweetie," he said though his voice was muffled by her fairy wings.

The other performances were finished and the children were running away joyously in their costumes while the parents looked on admiringly.  
Riley was trapped in a conversation with some dreadful woman, Kerrie Mason, who was patronising and critical and succeeded in making Riley feel like a substandard mother.

Patrick, the amazing man, gently nudged Riley from the conversation until she was free. He was fantastic with manipulating people that way.  
"Come for a walk me with," he said taking Riley's hand.  
Riley looked to make sure that Emily was occupied playing with her friends.  
He led them outside where they could still hear the laughter and music quietly.

Riley was curious while she walked beside him, still holding his hand. There was definitely something he wanted to say.  
"I've been thinking about what you were saying," Patrick said finally.

_Well, that narrows it down_, Riley thought thinking back to all the things she had said recently.

"About my job."  
Riley observed him with wide, blue eyes. Where was this going? She had many things to say on his 'job'. How deceptive and dangerous it was. The ridiculous hours involved and not to mention how ludicrous the idea was. She had stomped her foot when she had found out about this ridiculous television interview reading on Red John. One of the cases she'd had to work on before. Fat lot of good the foot stomp did.

"I think you're right," he said stopping and turning to face her. "I've realised some things."

"Okay," she said slowly. He dropped her hand to rummage through his pocket.  
"I wrote it down, a thousand times I think, it was very good." he said thumbing through much abused pieces of paper.  
"But basically, after talking about the Red John case tonight…..I've seen just how quickly you can lose your family and I'm so lucky to have the most beautiful family in the world and I want to spend every minute with them."

Riley tried not to laugh at the uncharacteristically serious look on his face.  
"That was very moving," she said. "Incredibly profound."  
"I try," he shrugged.

She laughed and leaned her head against his chest and he complied by wrapping his arms around her.  
"Thank you," she said as he kissed her hair.  
"Ah!" she gasped suddenly stepping away, Patrick put his hands on her shoulders.  
"What's wrong."  
She put her hand to her stomach. "Nothing. It's gone now. Some kind of spasm, I think."

He still had concern in his eyes when she kissed him.  
"Do you want to go get the car? I'll get Emily."  
"Okay," he smiled kissing her back. "Love you."  
"Love you too," she smiled and untangled their fingers so she could go get their daughter.

Patrick smiled and turned away throwing his keys in the air and catching them in his hand. He was looking forward to being a consultant or some sort of other profession that ultilises his abilities rather than a psychic. Riley was a brilliant doctor of forensic science, though she had cut back on her hours to be with Emily when she had been born.

Even though she had loved her work so much, Riley didn't want to be the type of mother to have someone else look after her daughter and only see her for a few hours a day. But Emily was starting school soon so she would be able to work cases a lot more frequently. Patrick was very wary when teenage Riley announced her want to be in law enforcement but the idea that she was safe up in a secure laboratory away from all the terrible crime she had to investigate from a distance, was a comfort.

Patrick wondered if he could visit Riley at work and what sort of horrible punishment would ensue if he ever did try and 'butt in' on her cases. Psychic ability vs. science was always a topic of cheery banter and argument in the Jane household. She was right, of course, he knew. He just couldn't let her know that all the time.

But before he could give another further thought, a loud noise interrupted his thoughts. It sounded like a car backfiring only much closer and clearer. The sound knocked him against a car and made his ears ring as if an explosion had taken place inside his skull. Then he noticed the pain in his chest, spreading across his lungs. He looked down and was shocked to see red blossoming across his white shirt. A stain expanding each second.

He put his hand to it, shocked, and drew it back. Red sticky blood coating his fingertips.  
"I do not like to be slandered in the media, Mr Jane," a chilling voice said. Chilling but clear, concise and clever.

Red John.

This couldn't be happening. This sort of thing didn't happen to Patrick Jane. For the first time in his life, he was terrified. But surprisingly to even him, not of his death at the hands of a vicious serial killer in a public car park. That wasn't so bad. A shot to the chest, slash across the throat, suffocation…however this mad man planned on killing him would merely just end his life. But to destroy him was an entirely different thing. Especially when the two only things that could were only a small distance away. Perhaps walking to the car alone, in darkness and complete vulnerability. Oh, why didn't he let Riley become a police officer?

Please, please, please don't let them come outside, Patrick begged in his head. Not his two girls.  
"Lovely wife you have there," the voice said again. Poetic. Mocking. "Very beautiful. Does your daughter take after her? I surely hope so."  
NO!

"NO!" she yelled but the cold pavement she had been standing on disappeared beneath her feet and she was being sucked down a dark tube. Tiny dots of light danced before her eyes.

Was it a dream or a memory?  
"I don't know!" said a frightened voice. "I didn't see it happen!"

The dream or memory or whatever it was dissolved and vanished like a reflection on water and instead fragments of thought began to drift through her head as if she was waking up from a long, deep sleep.

That's when she noticed the pain in her head for the first time. It hurt on one side as if someone had given her a good solid thwack with a hammer.

It was so vivid, so clear. Yet, it was already vanishing from her mind. She remembered music, fairy wings and a gunshot. She hung on to the smell of strawberries, hairspray and blood but it faded away quickly.

"Her eyelids are twitching, like she's dreaming," a person said.  
"Lisbon? Are you okay? Please open your eyes."  
It was a man's voice. Too loud and strident to ignore. It dragged her up into consciousness and wouldn't let her go. It was a voice that gave her the feeling of a familiar annoying itch like too tight stockings.

Did she faint? She had never fainted in her life although she had spent most of ninth grade practicing in the hope that she could be one of those lucky girls who fainted during church and had to be carried out, draped across the muscle arms of their PE teacher, Mr Potter.

"A man's been shot," she gurgled at the voice. She couldn't even understand her own words. "I saw a partial plate AA6, I think. You need to track down and…and..."  
"You're delirious," her boss Minelli said. "Don't try to sit up."

"You hit your head," Sam Bosco explained as she looked around. She seemed to be lying at the foot of some stairs. The stairs at the office. The CBI. Not a little kindergarten carpark on Broken Hill.

She recognised Bosco's wife, Mandy, looking frightened and stroked Lisbon's arm.

"Oh dear, sweetie, YOU MIGHT JUST BE A LITTLE BIT CONCUSSED!"  
"I don't think that makes her deaf," Minelli said gruffly before standing up to shoo away excited rookies who had been confined to their desks all day.

"I'll go get some towels for the blood," Bosco said standing up. "Mandy'll stay with you."  
Lisbon always felt guilty and awkward around Bosco's perfectly friendly wife, Mandy. With good reason. It's a lot easier to justify a previous affair with a married man if his wife wasn't a caring, loyal and warm woman.

"You lost your balance and fell down the stairs," she said in her chatty voice. "You smashed your head and it made the most awful sound. I'm so glad you're conscious, again. I had been worried about cerebral compression."

Lisbon vaguely remembered that Mrs. Bosco was a school nurse. Not the sort of medical professional she was comforted by but she probably wasn't completely stupid on the subject. Lisbon sat on the floor quietly as she usually did around the over friendly Amanda Bosco.  
Luckily, a rookie shouted out. "The ambulance is here!"

Mandy stayed kneeling on the floor next to Lisbon, patting her on the shoulder. Then she stopped patting.  
"Oh my, why do you get all the fun?"

Lisbon twisted her neck to see and saw two impossibly handsome men in blue overalls striding towards her.  
She immediately felt embarrassed and tried to right herself. Showing signs of weakness or vulnerability was a taboo to Lisbon especially when fighting for authority in a male dominant profession that demanded such qualities.

"Don't move, honey," the tall one called.  
"He looks just like Brad Pitt!" Mandy whispered. He did too.  
Lisbon couldn't help but feel cheerier. She felt like she had woken up in an episode of _Grey's Anatomy_.

"Hey!" Brad Pitt said cheerfully kneeling beside Lisbon. "What's your name?"  
"Amanda. Mandy," Mrs Bosco said blushing. "Oh, she's Agent Lisbon. Teresa Lisbon."  
"Had a bit of a fall did you, Teresa?"  
"So I've been told," she said.

Lisbon felt secretly teary and special as she generally did when she talked to any health professional, even a chemist. She blamed her mother for making too much of a fuss of when she was sick and as child. Her and her brothers were terrible hypochondriacs.

Her father died dad died from a heart attack so she had always been frightened by the slightest case of heartburn. She had two grandparents die of cancer on both sides so she had been permanently on standby by waiting for the cancer cells to strike. For a while she was terrified she was about to be struck down by motor neurone disease, for no reason that the fact she had read a very moving article in the Readers Digest about a man who had it. He had first noticed the problem when his feet started hurting. So whenever she'd feel a twinge in her feet, she would think, _okay, here we go_.

She was a dreadful worrier too. Every day she would worry that her brother would be killed in a car accident, and contemplated every childhood disease that her niece and nephew could contract. Before she went to sleep she would worry that someone she loved would die in the night. Killed in a terrorist attack, maybe. "That means the terrorists have won," her brother, Matthew would say. He doesn't understand that she was fighting off the terrorists by worrying about them. It was her own personal War on Terror.

But she was Agent Lisbon and was surrounded by colleagues; no tears would escape her eyes. She saw the paramedics set up a stretcher for her, it looked a little flimsy.

The CBI looked on grimly as Lisbon was loaded into the ambulance. Rookie's looked on with feverish excitement. She had never been more embarrassed in her entire life.  
"Do you remember what you had for breakfast this morning, Teresa?" Brad asked.  
_It's Lisbon_, she wanted to correct him automatically. She had been so used to being addressed by her surname by so many years.

"How is that relevant?"  
"It's just one of those standard questions we ask people with head injuries. We're trying to ascertain your mental state."  
"Um…" she thought back, racking her brains but something else was on her mind. Screaming at her. But she couldn't remember what.

"That's OK," he answered. "I don't think I can remember what I had for breakfast myself."

Well, so much for ascertaining her mental state! Did Brad actually know what he was talking about?

"Maybe you've got a concussion too," Lisbon said. Brad laughed dutifully. He seemed to be losing interest in her. He was probably hoping that his next patient was more interesting and he could use those heart defibrillator things, Lisbon would if she were a paramedic.

Brad dabbed at her head with a cloth and drew it away. While it went past Lisbon's face, the smell of blood hit her nostrils and suddenly she was sucked down into that dream or memory.

How could she have forgotten? The smell of blood, everywhere, pooling over the handsome blonde mans shirt, over the pavement. A scarlet puddle. A woman's scream. Sirens blaring. Her heart was racing so fast in fear that she was sure it was going to rip right out of her chest and bounce around the ambulance.

Lisbon turned her head and was sick all over Brad Pitt's shiny black shoes.


	3. A Challenge

_**The little Patrick/Lisbon feud was similar to that in Ghost so anybody who is a fan of the classics. Thanks to every one who has reviewed. I promise there is more humour in upcoming chapters. **_

Brad Pitt was very nice about his shoes.  
Lisbon was appalled and embarrassed and struggled to climb off the stretcher so she could find something to help clean them up. The paramedics told her very sternly to stay still.  
Perhaps it was regular for paramedics to have their shoes vomited on.

"I suppose I'm not dying then?" she asked Brad conversationally. She couldn't hear the sirens wailing.  
He chuckled. "No. Just a slight concussion. We'll get you fixed up in a jiffy."

It disturbed Lisbon slightly when doctors and medical professionals used phrases like 'fixed up in a jiffy'. It made them sound far too young and too surprised. Nothing should surprise a paramedic. These medical professionals seem so impressive and then they disappointed you by turning out to be ordinary everyday people.

They arrived at the hospital and she was loaded out of the back of the ambulance.  
"What've we got here?" asked the woman who met them.  
She looked about twelve, Lisbon wondered if she was doing work experience and then was shocked when she saw the girl wearing a doctors coat. Surely, this couldn't be her doctor.  
"Just a bit of a bump on the noggin," Brad said sounding not at all medical.

"Wait, I never asked your name," she said to Brad before she was wheeled away by the teenager.  
"James," Brad said apologetically as if he knew it would be a disappointment.

She watched as the hospital lights flashed by rhythmically.  
Lisbon wondered if it had been a dream. But it had been so realistic. She went back to the bits she could remember. There was nothing familiar about the man who was shot, though it had been dark and she didn't see him very well. Even though her memory was fuzzy she thought there was something about the woman that tugged elusively at her memory a little.

A few hours later, the young girl who met her at the gate came in.  
"Well, Miss Lisbon, you're CT scan showed no sign of intracranial bleeding."  
Lisbon liked this girl. Sure, she looked like she hadn't even hit puberty yet but she used words like 'intracranial bleeding'. It was very professional.

"Once we get your discharge papers sorted, you can go home," she said.  
Lisbon nodded in a dismissive way but the doctor didn't leave. She hugged her clipboard close to her chest and looked as if she were interested in having a chat.

Lisbon searched her brain for interesting topics of conversation.  
"Did you get in touch with my boss?" Lisbon asked. "Of course you might not have had the chance…"  
She didn't want the doctor to snarl; "Sorry, I was saving somebody's life."  
The doctor nodded. "Yes, he said not to worry about coming into work tomorrow. Is there anybody else you'd like me to call?"

"Ummm…"Lisbon thought. "No."  
A nurse walked in and whispered something to the doctor.  
"I'm sorry, Miss Lisbon. I've got an emergency I have to attend to. When you're ready go down to the administration and they'll give you your forms to sign."

Finally, she was able to go home. Lisbon walked down the corridor and past the waiting room. She walked past a therapists office and there she saw something colourful stand out from the usual solemn, grim looking occupants. A little blonde girl was sitting in a chair. She was dressed in a pink costume and had bright fairy wings on her back.

But there was something wrong with the picture. For one, the little girl was crying, streaks of mascara running down her face staining her cheeks (wasn't she a little young to be wearing makeup? Lisbon thought), she wasn't sitting on the chair normally. She was curled up, holding herself tightly and turned her back to the professional looking man, screaming at him through her sobbing so that Lisbon couldn't make out what she was saying.

There was another man there too, possibly her father because they looked quite the same. He was kneeling on the little girl's other side. He was trying to talk to her, to reassure and comfort her but she seemed to be ignoring him, looking right through him as though he wasn't there.

Childishly, the girl put both her hands over her ears and shut her eyes tightly as if she didn't believe what the therapist was saying and began to rock back and forth. "Stop lying! Stop lying! I want to wake up now, I don't like this dream. I want to wake up!" she sobbed.

Suddenly the blonde man turned around and looked at Lisbon so deep and intense that she felt a blush creep up her neck but she was unable to look away. He looked at her oddly with surprise and curiosity. Lisbon managed to rip her gaze away to her feet and continued walking down the hallway.

The admin lady was one of those jolly, cheerful types. The type of people who Lisbon really couldn't stand when she wasn't in a particularly cheerful mood.

She filled out her papers while listening dutifully to exactly how to administer her pain medication.  
"See you later," the admin lady smiled waving.  
"What a terrible thing to say at a hospital," Lisbon said to herself as she walked out and hailed a taxi.

_**Eight Weeks Later**_

"No, not that one."  
"Come on Riles, you hated that shirt!" Patrick said as she put it on the ever growing 'keep' pile.

Riley glanced in the 'throw out' box. "Why is this in throw out box?"  
"It's just some rubbish I found under the bed."  
"It is not rubbish. I told you to ask me before you put anything in the throw out bag!"  
"You're not keeping a napkin, Riley."

Riley looked hurt by his statement and held the napkin to her chest as if Ben had hurt it's feelings.  
Ben sighed. "Ry, you don't have to keep it just because he doodled a picture of a penguin in the corner."  
"I like the picture," Riley said smoothing it out and placing on the pile.  
"Riley," Patrick said shaking his head.

"Is Emily speaking to you yet?" Ben asked.

Emily had worn an old jumper of her fathers for weeks and weeks after he died and refused to take it off, kicking and screaming when Riley had finally pulled it over her head. Emily still hadn't forgiven her. Riley still hadn't forgiven herself.

Apparently at the hospital, Riley had not let anyone touch her clothes that were still covered in blood. Riley had a small frame so Ben's wife had no trouble tackling her, fully clothed into the shower where she held her under the water, letting it wash away blood while Riley cried.

Riley couldn't remember this at all. She would feel embarrassed about it later, when she got around to caring again.

"Kind of," Riley said.

Ben looked down at the dining room table. Riley and Emily were packing to leave and he had come over to help Riley sort out Patrick's belongings. So far, there were five boxes, two suitcases and three piles of things she wanted to take with her. In the throw out box, there were a few high school trophies, some books and letters that Ben was quite sure were actually Riley's old things. Patrick knew his assumption was correct.

Patrick sighed and walked out of the room. He would go crazy if he had to watch this anymore.  
He knew why he was still here, unable to touch or talk to his family. They were in terrible danger. Red John was going to kill them. Red John told him so right before he, himself was killed.

But he had no way to warn them, to warn anyone. His last hope was that woman at the hospital all those months ago who might have seen him. Patrick was sure that she saw him or maybe he was grasping at straws. He recognised the woman, Teresa Lisbon from the file picture. It was the woman he was supposed to work for when he became a consultant (his alive self made sure to do research on each of his prospective work colleagues).

It was a long shot but he was out of options. Eight weeks had passed and Red John was getting closer to deciding which technique he would use to dispose of the rest of the Jane family. With this constantly in the back of his mind, he walked out of the house and began his search.

"But that's just the point," Dean said turning the corner sharply. "They say they want to preserve the integrity and the basic intention but they've got corporate mindsets. Look, just talk to Glen and see what he says. No, not this morning, I've got something going. I'll be in by noon though. Okay, later."

"Sorry about that," Dean said to Lisbon as he flipped the phone shut.  
"No problem," Lisbon said. Actually, she did have a problem. She spent a weeks paycheck finding the most gorgeous outfit, an hour doing her hair to go out to dinner only to have Dean spent the entire time on the phone. So yeah, she did have a problem.

She grumbled a lot on her way upstairs to her apartment. Lisbon shut the door and kicked off her high heels angrily.

"Bad date?" a voice said behind her.  
Lisbon spun around, her hand automatically going to her hip where her gun was usually kept. Except it was under her pillow at the moment.

A man was leaning against the doorframe, observing her like she were some interesting, curious insect. Lisbon recognised him but couldn't remember where exactly. Maybe an escaped criminal she had arrested, back for revenge. Well, we couldn't have that now could we?

"Okay," Lisbon said steadily. "I'm not sure who the hell you are and why the hell you are in my apartment but you need to put your hands up slowly."

"Good, you can hear me," Jane said standing up. "I need to ask you for a favour."  
"I will shoot," Lisbon warned when he approached her.

"With what?" Patrick laughed. "Your obvious charismatic charm? I believe your weapon, Agent Lisbon, is currently under your pillow. Sleeping with a gun is quite dangerous, not to mention a tad paranoid. You should really see someone about that, my dear."

"Who are you?" Lisbon demanded.  
"I'm sorry," Patrick said. "Patrick Jane."  
"W-what?" Lisbon stammered. "You cant be. He – Patrick Jane, I heard he died."  
"Yes, I'm aware," Patrick said putting his hand through Lisbon's wall and watching her mouth drop.

"I saw you at the hospital," Patrick said taking advantage of Lisbon's obvious shock. "When you were in some kind of accident. I was certain you saw me."  
"I'm in a coma, aren't I?" Lisbon said. "I really did knock myself out on the stairs and all this….All this is some parallel universe, right?"

"Stairs, was it?" Patrick asked. "I expected something more impressive from such a refined agent as yourself. However, no, this is quite real."

Lisbon's eyes narrowed and she spoke slowly. "Fine, if you are some kind of paranormal…whatever…why are you still here? Shouldn't you be…I don't know. In heaven or something?"

Patrick chuckled. "I don't believe such a place exists, Miss Lisbon, for people like me at least. And as for your first question, its obvious I have some unfinished business to attend to."

"Unfinished business?" Lisbon said raising her eyebrow.  
"Yes, haven't you ever seen Ghost Whisperer?"

"This isn't real, this isn't real," Lisbon said closing her eyes and pressing her fingertips to her forehead.  
"Relax," Patrick said. "Settle down and have a cup of tea. God, I would if I could. In the meantime however I need you to help me with something."

Lisbon didn't answer so he continued. "There is a murderer, Red John. I'm sure you've heard of him."  
Lisbon opened her eyes. "Yes."  
"Good. He killed me and now he's going after my family. I need you to warn them."

"No, no, no, no way!" Lisbon said. "You need to go back to whatever part of my brain conjured you. You're a hallucination. I'm going to go to the hospital in the morning and sort this out."

"Yes, we'll go to the hospital," Patrick promised. "Just after we make a quick pit stop at my house."  
"Not happening," Lisbon said. "I'll wake up tomorrow and you will be gone."  
She went into the bathroom and splashed some water on to her face before changing into her pajamas.

Patrick was lying on her bed when she walked out.

"What the hell?"  
"You do this one favour for me," he said. "And I'll leave you alone forever. You can have your quiet miserable life back."  
"Go to hell," Lisbon said falling on her bed and turning her back to him.  
"Believe me, I'm trying," Patrick said. "But I cant until I know that they are safe."

She didn't answer. Stubborn. He could handle stubborn. He married stubborn.  
"Fine," he said crossing his arms. "I can stick around and make your life a living hell. I have all the time in the world."  
"Believe me, you cant make it any worse."  
Patrick smiled. If there was something he loved, it was a challenge.

"_Smiles and her laughter, it's the only thing that I've been waiting for, a time.  
Regardless of our distance, and our hope, cuz were  
Swept by pretty eyes and letters for, a time.  
The only thing that I've been waiting forrrrrrr." _

Lisbon stuck her pillow over her head. She knew her gun was pointless in this situation.  
Patrick looked over at her while he sung. _  
_  
_"I hope it's something worth the waiting,  
'Cause it's the only thought that I ever feel real.  
Thunderstorms could never stop me,  
'Cause there's no one in the world like Emily."_

Lisbon peeked at the clock. 4am. She would never be able to listen to this song on the radio again. Which was a pity since she rather liked this song. Used to, at least. Until it was sung out of tune for hours and hours and hours and…._  
_  
_"She's simple yet confusing,  
Her sparkling eyes make me weak at my words, they tremble.  
Days seem like years in this month of December.  
The winter, coldens me for I have yet to sleep.  
And never, will I give up trying 'cause you're everything to meeeeeee."_

Patrick could feel her resolve breaking.  
Why haven't the neighbours complained yet? Lisbon thought until she remembered that she was only one who could hear this demon sent from hell who seemed intent on destroying her. Perhaps not that dramatic but at 4am, she was certain that her theatrics were rendered appropriate for this situation.

_"I hope it's something worth the waiting,  
It's the only time that I ever feel real.  
Thunderstorms could never stop me,  
'Cause there's no one in the world like Emily."_

He took a break and looked over. Her grip on her pillow seemed to relax. He couldn't have that so he began the song again for the hundredth or so time.

"_Smiles and her laughter, it's the only thing-"_

"Fine!" she yelled. "Fine, I'll go there. I'll warn them. I'll say whatever you want just SHUT UP AND LET ME SLEEP!"  
Patrick smiled. This was going to be fun.


	4. Nurse Emily

Minelli was in his chair wearing his permanent superior frown as he stared down at the report.  
Lisbon had started a secret tally in her head to find whether Minelli or Cho held the CBI record for least smiles per year.

"Hmmm," he frowned examining it further as if checking for bomb residue.  
"Is that a good _hmm_ or a bad _hmm_?" Lisbon pressed, twisting her fingers.

Minelli put up his hand to silence her as he read further. After what felt like hours, he finally glanced up at her.

"Well, I have to say, I'm surprised, Lisbon. Why the sudden interest in protection detail?"

Lisbon had the answer well prepared in her head.

"You are always saying that I need to take time off and I think a break from all the action would be beneficial. Being on protection detail would be less stressful but still uses all my skills and knowledge in the area."

"Well, that was a well memorised little speech," Minelli said. "I suppose it is nice to have you listen to something I'm saying for once. When did this sudden realisation come to you?"

"I'm not sure, but it kept me up all night," she replied, hoping Minelli wouldn't pick up on her bitter tone and get suspicious.

"I suppose I can see how you would be an asset in protection detail but why are you so interested in the Jane family specifically?"

"I know the case. My connections at the DOJ allow me to have access to all the information and I am better informed about Red John than the other agents on the protection detail," Lisbon said.  
Another well rehearsed answer she had prepared earlier. Her experience with Minelli's predictable questions gave her an edge.

"Hmmm," Minelli frowned.  
Lisbon made an impatient, frustrated noise. "Is that a good _hmm_ or a bad _hmm_?"

"Alright, alright," he said. "I'll give you couple of months but you should know that I doubt the protection detail assigned to the Janes will be thrilled about having to share. It isn't exactly a high priority case so they were told it no other agents would be butting in."

"I understand but I assure you, boss, that I will cooperate with them to the best of my ability."  
"Yes, you will or I'll have your ass back at your desk faster than you can sneeze. Are we clear?"  
"Perfectly, sir."

"Good," he said. "I can try and earn you some brownie points by having you do the night shift for the first few weeks."  
"That's settled then," Lisbon said standing up.  
"Mmhmm," Minelli frowned again going back to his stack of paperwork and Lisbon took this as her dismissal.

Lisbon left his office and stopped in her tracks when she saw her blonde demon bouncing towards her excitedly and anxiously, unnoticed by the agents wandering the corridor.

"Did you do it? Did it work? Are you…"  
"Yes," Lisbon snapped bitterly, under her breath and stalked past him.  
He caught up with her. "Don't be annoyed, Lizzy."

"I'm sorry but did you just call me…._Lizzy_?"  
"Yeah, it's like a nickname. A sign of companionship. You know, since we'll be working together kind of."

"Call me Lizzy again and I will search every corner of the known earth until I find a method of abolishing you."  
"Bon-Bon, then? Or what about Lizzy Bon-Bon?"

Jane could nearly feel the waves of fury rolling off of Lisbon.

"Fine, no nicknames," he said. "But seriously though, you shouldn't be too annoyed about this."

"You think?"

"Nope," Jane shook his head. "It's a chance to expand your horizons. Carpe Diem!"  
"Please don't get all bilingual with me, I can barely tolerate your English form."  
"I'm not that bad."

Lisbon looked at him exasperated.  
"You break into my house, refuse to let me sleep, stalk me and now you've forced me into changing my job on an indefinate basis," she hissed so the other agents wouldn't hear her rambling into thin air.

"Well actually," Jane said. "I did not break into your house, I went through the door. I didn't refuse to let you sleep, I just didn't help you sleep. Technically, I'm haunting you rather than stalking you. And I would never force you to do anything. I gave you a proposition and allowed you to make the final decision."  
"Only you could make blackmail sound ethical!" Lisbon snapped glaring at him while her mind flashed back to that morning.

After three glorious silent hours of sleep, she had kept her word and tried to contact Jane's family. However, there was restricted access to the telephone number, email address and any other method of contact.  
"You have to go there," Jane said after Lisbon listened to the disconnected tone of the number Jane had given her which had clearly been changed.

Lisbon looked at him imploringly. "Jane, if your assumptions about your family's safety are correct that I can ensure you that the DOJ have considered it as well which means that they have assigned protection detail to your family."

"Yes, I saw the 'protection detail' when they moved. Thank god, Riley works with an ex-agent so she doesn't have to fully rely on that useless tosser your beloved DOJ employed."

"Your opinion aside, there are already precautions put in place. Clearly, this isn't a high profile case and we cant waste valuable resources on…"  
"_Cant waste valuable resources_," he mimicked in a poor imitation of her authorative voice.

"Do you realise the trouble I would be in if I interfered in this investigation? Hell, I could lose my job simply by knocking on the front door!"  
"Then think of a way to not lose your job," Jane shrugged as if it were obvious.

"Okay, Jane. Say I did manage to defy the impossible and side step the law. What do you want me to say? _Hey, Mrs Jane! I was just chatting away to your moron ghost of a dead husband who wanted me to tell you that his killer wants to come and chop up you and your daughter_?"

"Pretty much, but she'd probably let you call her by her first name."

Lisbon shook her head. "No, no. I did what I could. I tried. There is no way I can interfere with this and keep my badge. I'm sorry but it's not happening, you'll just have to trust that the DOJ has it under control."

Jane looked at her mischievously and began singing again. "_Smiles and her laughter. It's the only thing that I've been waiting…" _

And that is how Teresa Lisbon ended up in the CBI corridor and put on protection detail for the Jane family.

"I'm proud of you," Jane continued. "I just assumed that you would rather get fired than sleep deprived but then - **BAM** – Agent Lisbon comes up with a plan to keep everyone happy and everything legal."

"Everyone meaning you."

"Maybe now but you'll be glad you did this in the long run. Trust me."  
"And why are you so convinced that your wife is going to believe me?"

"Oh, I'm know she won't believe you and probably will think your crazy. She's a scientist so she doesn't believe in that supernatural crap," Jane said as if he were skeptical about his own existence also.

"Say's the spirit," Lisbon muttered.

"All I need you to do is catch Red John, kill him if possible," he said and added quickly when he saw the look on Lisbon's face. "Self defense of course. And when that's done I'll will leave you free to continue the rest of your life Patrick Jane-less."

Lisbon's eyes nearly rolled in the back of her head at the prospect of her life being 'Patrick Jane-less'.

"And what do you propose I do until I catch Red John?" she asked. "Take up origami?"  
"Well, Riley's not coping well, you could always help her with your incredible people skills in the mean time."

"Is Riley your wife?" Lisbon asked.  
"Yes."

"She's beyond helping then," Lisbon scoffed. "She chose you didn't she?"

"I think I'm starting to get it now, this whole self-loathing thing you got going on," Jane said thoughtfully.  
"Oh please, it's you that I loathe."  
"No, no," Jane clarified. "You're a lonely, miserable introvert."  
"And you're an annoying arrogant corpse."  
"Hey, I was self confident not arrogant. There's a difference.  
"My mistake," Lisbon said. "You must've been a real catch. She's a lucky girl."

They both glared at each other and then Lisbon sighed knowing that he wasn't going anywhere until she met his demands.

"Lets go and research your murder then, shall we?" Lisbon said walking to where the files were kept.  
"Finally, something your saying makes sense!"

It was certainly weird looking at the crime scene photos. Lisbon felt her stomach squirming at the sight of Jane lying on black pavement in a puddle of shocking red blood, two blossoming patches of red staining his shirt, one on his stomach, the other right where his heart was.

"Gunshots, was it?" Lisbon asked. "I expected something more impressive from such a refined jackass as yourself."

Jane chuckled as he stood behind her. "I guess I deserve that."  
"No you deserve much more. What Red John did was kindly compared to the murderous fantasies, I've been brewing up in my head," Lisbon said flicking through other files.

"Who's Ben Cassidy?" she asked as she looked at the picture of a ginormous bear like man.  
"He works with my wife," Jane explained. "His family have been really good to my wife and daughter. He's an ex-agent turned forensic scientist."  
"Okay, and the other agent on protection detail is…Daniel Foster."

"Miserable little git isn't he?" Jane sneered looking at the photo.  
"I don't blame him," Lisbon said. "There's next to no action involved in low profile protection cases. Something I have to look forward to," she glared at him menacingly.

"I can't believe I got roped into this. I thought I was more assertive than that."  
"Don't feel bad," Jane reassured. "I'm good at talking people into things, its what I do."  
"Did," Lisbon corrected harshly.

Lisbon picked up the last photo clipped in the file.

It was of a child wrapped lovingly in the arms of her mother.

The little girl had had golden ringlets that were bunched up in pigtails on side of her head. She was smiling ecstatically with a dimple denting each of her cherubic cheeks. She was so cute, she looked Photoshopped.  
The woman holding her was smiling too and Lisbon couldn't help but noticed the contrast between her and her daughter. Her long hair, so dark it was bordering on black fell across her daughters golden hair in loose wavy curls. Her skin was paler than her daughters but they both had the most amazing deep pure blue eyes.

"Cute family," Lisbon commented.  
"Thanks."  
"I'm not complimenting _you_," Lisbon said irritably, her temper firing up again. God, she hated this man.

"Someone's rather snarky,"  
"Leave me alone!" she yelled banging her fist on the table.

"Um…Lisbon?" Minelli said slowly by the doorway, clearly concerned.  
"Hi, boss," Lisbon said trying to hide her mortification. "Flies. Pesky little things, aren't they?"  
"Sure," he said, eyeing her warily. "I'm driving you personally to the Janes so I can explain the situation. I assumed you've briefed yourself on the details of the case?"

"Yep," she said holding up the file.  
"Good, lets go then," he said in his usual grumpy fashion.  
"See you later," Jane whispered in her ear before disappearing.

000

"What am I doing?" Lisbon said quietly shifting from foot to foot on the porch with her fist hovered in front of the door, unable to make a knocking motion.

There was the doorbell but Lisbon had an irrational prejudge against doorbells. She was always worried about them not working or maybe waking up a sleeping baby. They were an unreliable not to mention an unnecessary invention. She much preferred a good old fashioned knock.

Minelli was making a call by the car and told her to go on. She felt embarrassed and nervous, her palms sweaty as she managed to get out two quiet taps on the door.

It seemed enough though because she heard footsteps approach and someone rattle the doorknob.  
When the person answered, Lisbon had her mouth open ready to ask for Mrs Jane when she realised with an unpleasant jolt, a moment too late, that this unrecognisable person in front of her _was_ Riley Jane.

The woman who stood before her though was so different from the beautiful woman in the picture she had seen not more than twenty minutes ago.

Riley's dark hair was limp and lifeless against her skin that looked closer to pallid than pale. The amazing blue colour of her eyes looked weak and washed out like that beautiful cerulean sweater Lisbon owned that was now faded from constant wash and wear.

Lisbon felt like an idiot standing on this woman's porch, unable to form any words that seemed fitting.  
"Dr Jane. Riley," Minelli said coming up the stairs. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

He extended his hand to her warmly and Lisbon noticed for the first time the way Riley had her arms around herself, like she was holding herself together and even the tiniest vibration could shatter her.

Riley looked at Minelli's hand knowing that it was polite to shake his hand but seemed unable to take it but Minelli closed his fist and swung it back and forth like he didn't notice anything.

"Hi," Riley said smiling although it looked so obviously pained and unnatural on her face.  
"Hi, Agent Lisbon," she said shyly to Lisbon who was taken aback.

"Ah, of course you already know each other," Minelli said tapping his forehead. "I know the Serious Crimes Unit have a good relationship with the Forensics team."

Lisbon felt guilty that she had actually met this woman, probably talked to her too and didn't even commit her to memory.

When Lisbon did venture into the DOJ laboratories her main focus was to get what she needed and get out, not wanting to feel dumb next to the super nerdy scientists in their intimidating white coats and extensive vocabulary. She made a mental note to pay more attention in future.

"Come in," Riley said quickly, just realising everyone was backed up in the doorway like a traffic jam.  
Lisbon stepped inside awkwardly and Riley scooped up some dolls scattered along the floor and placed them on the table.

"Sorry about the mess," Riley apologised brushing a limp curl that was dangling by her eye behind her ear and gestured to the toys that were scattered around the room.  
Lisbon never understood why people apologised when their house was messy. It was _their_ house for goodness sake.

"It's fine," Lisbon assured her. Lisbon quite liked the mess. It wasn't a dirty mess, it was a good mess. The mess was proof of a real home.

"What can I do for you, Agent Minelli?" Riley asked folding her arms around herself again and leaning against the back of a chair.  
"I just assigned Agent Lisbon here to work with Agent Foster."

"Is there a problem?" Riley asked tipping her head to one side slightly.  
"No," Minelli said quickly. "Not at all. Agent Lisbon, here, just needed a break from her fast paced job and has agreed to do the night shift and I thought it would be beneficial for Agent Foster to work with an experienced senior agent."

A low throaty noise like a scoff came from behind Lisbon and at first she thought it was Jane, back to annoy her but when she glanced over her shoulder, she noticed a man in a dark navy blue sweater and black pants leaning against the doorway to the living room, glaring at Lisbon with obvious distaste.

"Ah, Agent Foster," Minelli said noticing him as well. "I suppose you heard then too."  
"Yes," he said in a smooth, evened out voice. "However, I have some reservations about your decision, Minelli."  
"Oh?" Minelli said, feigning surprise, knowing full well what these 'reservations' would be.

"I was told that this was a one-man operation and I have all the experienced assistance I require from retired agent Ben Cassidy. The Janes' don't seem to be in any immediate danger from Red John and I am sure if that incident escalates, I am perfectly capable with dealing with him," he said as if daring someone to tell him that he was no match for Red John.

Lisbon had to admire the young agents confidence although it would probably get him killed one day. _Just ask Patrick Jane_, she wanted to say to him.

"I think if Red John was going to do anything, he would have done it by now," Riley said quietly from the corner. She was really sick of having Cassidy and Foster hovering around all the time ready to dive in front of a bullet for her. It was annoying not to mention unnerving.

"Its assumptions like that, that will get you murdered, Riley," Foster said to Riley with an air of ownership, like she was some shiny object he had to protect who was obliged to listen to him.

Lisbon silently agreed with what he said but thought that Foster was a tad tactless. Did he really have to be so _blunt_ with her?

"And I thank you, Minelli for your concern," he added. "But I am fairly certain you can put _Agent Lisbon_ to better use. Cassidy and I have the situation here under control."  
He made a face when he said her name which riled Lisbon right up.

"You needn't worry, _Agent Foster_. I just plan on supervising and making sure that your lack of experience doesn't get in the way of performing the task at hand," she answered in the same tone he used with her.

"Play nice, kids," Minelli said putting his hands up. "There's plenty of room in the sandbox. And on that note, I'm going back to the office. Agent Foster, I am leaving it up to you to bring Agent Lisbon up to speed with the investigation and Agent Lisbon, I am leaving it up to you to adapt yourself to Agent Foster's way of working. Clear?"

"Clear," they both said at the same time, glaring at each other.

Riley looked reproachfully at Minelli as if to say '_You're seriously not going to leave me alone with them_!',

She looked from one to the other awkwardly wondering how on earth this situation was going to work out. Maybe she could just hang out upstairs with Ben and Emily for the next few months, venturing down into the war zone only when it was absolutely necessary.

Minelli left leaving an uncomfortable silence behind him.

Riley was the first to break the ice.  
"Do you need some pajamas for tonight, Agent Lisbon?" she asked. "I think I'm about your size."  
"Oh no, thank you," Lisbon said. "My boyf…Dean is dropping a bag off for me for tonight until I can go home and pack properly tomorrow."

Lisbon heard tiny footsteps thumping clumsily across the floorboards. Riley heard the (familiar) noise as well and turned around.

At that moment a little girl, a four year old bundle of beauty came running into the room wearing only a T-shirt and underpants dotted with pictures of strawberries.

"Mummy, where are my shorts?" she said in her tinkling voice. "I mean the denim ones. And don't say, have I looked in the drawer, because yes, I have looked, for ages and ages, and yes, actually, I did use my eyes."

She pirouetted on the spot with her arms held gracefully above her head.  
"You've gotten very good at that, Emily," Riley said smiling at her.

"Yes, I am pretty good," she sighed as if it were quite the responsibility. She stuck on her leg and admired her pointed toe.

Then her eyes fell on Lisbon and she exclaimed with surprised happiness, bouncing over to her welcomingly but accidentally tumbled clumsily into her, her head colliding softly with her stomach. Lisbon's hands automatically held the tiny girl up to keep her from face planting it into the carpet.

The little girl smiled up at her with curiosity.

Lisbon thought that Emily was impossibly beautiful: smooth skin with a light cinnamon dusting of freckles across her nose, and enormous dark-lashed blue eyes. Lisbon couldn't help but reach down and lightly touch her beautiful golden hair, the soft wisps of silk intertwining with her fingers.

"Well, you've met Emily then," Riley said with a delicate sigh.  
"My name is Emily Olivia Jane," Emily said in her tiny voice, the words sounding rehearsed like she had practiced them. "What's your name?"

"Teresa," Lisbon said, realising she was still holding the girl and gently removed her arms, making sure that Emily had her footing.

Emily wrinkled her nose slight and tipped her head to the side.  
"I think I sawed you at the hos-ber-tabel."

Lisbon gasped quietly when she recognised Emily as that crying little girl in the butterfly costume. It seemed obvious why she was crying now.

"Why were you in the hos-ber-tabel, Teaser?" she asked. "Were you sick?"  
"I just bumped my head," Lisbon said, unable to keep herself from smiling. Emily just seemed to have that effect on people.

"Is it still sore?"  
"A little bit," Lisbon said rubbing the spot on her skull that was still an uneven lump.  
"Oh, poor darling Teaser," Emily said frowning then her face brightened. "I know! I'll listen to your heart and be your nurse. Yes!"

Emily skidded off quickly, nearly falling over sideways in her socks on the floorboards and then ran upstairs to her room leaving the three adults again in an uncomfortable silence.

"I'm sorry about Emily," Riley said to Lisbon.  
"Its fine," Lisbon said quickly. "She's cute. Not exactly shy.."  
"Actually, she has been," Riley said looking straight at Lisbon with her faded blue eyes for the first time. "I think she really likes you. Emily has a scarily good judgment of character."

Lisbon realised after a minute that this was a compliment but before she could thank Riley, Emily came skidding back in with a red cape tied around her shoulders, a toy stethoscope around her neck and a plastic pink first aid kit.

Red lipstick was smeared clumsily across her lips and she had on humongous glasses that magnified her bright eyes. Apparently the search for the denim shorts had been abandoned.

"Okay, Teaser, I'm ready to be your nurse," she said. "Sit down and I'll take your temperature."  
Emily walked over to and slipped her tiny hand inside of hers. Charmed by the feel of her small, warm palm, Lisbon let herself be led to the couch in the lounge room.

"Lie down, there's a dear," Emily said kneeling beside her as Lisbon laid down.  
"Say arrrr."  
Lisbon complied and Emily stuck the toy thermometer in her mouth.

Emily stroked back the hair from Lisbon's forehead and said: "Now I will listen to your heartbeat, patient."  
She plugged the stethoscope into her ears and pressed the other end to Lisbon's chest.

She frowned professionally.  
Lisbon bit back a laugh. This kid was adorable.

"Ok, patient, your heart is beating," she informed her taking the stethoscope out of her ears.  
"Phew," Lisbon played along theatrically wiping her hand across her forehead in relief.

Emily removed the plastic thermometer and looked at it. Her mouth dropped comically.  
"You have a terrible fever, patient. You're burning up!"  
"Oh no," Lisbon said. "What should I do?"  
"You should watch me do a cartwheel," Emily said brightly. "That will cure you!"

Lisbon watched as her little face furrowed in concentration as she attempted a lopsided cartwheel that resulted in her tumbling into the table that Riley had placed her dolls on just before. They toppled off along with Emily's glasses.

"Oops!" Emily exclaimed putting both her hands over her mouth and looking at Lisbon with wide eyes.

Lisbon couldn't help it but laugh now at the sheer impossibility of the extent of Emily's adorability. Lisbon wasn't even sure that was a word (like Patrick Jane-less) but it just seemed fitting to her.

Lisbon then felt a rush of warmth towards her annoying ghost.

At first she had hated the man for putting her through hell but now…now when she looked at Emily she could understand why Jane would go as far as he would to protect this sweet, innocent little bundle of life and Lisbon decided, then and there that she would help Jane catch Red John before he could lay a finger on what was left of this tiny family.

**Reviews are very much appreciated.  
XOXOXOX**


	5. Black Out

**BLACK OUT**

Lisbon was sitting on the porch steps with Emily who was giving Lisbon a blow-by-blow account of her morning. Apparently Riley had taken Emily to the primary school that was right next to Emily's preschool to get her used to idea of going to 'proper big girl school'.

She seemed especially excited that 'Froster and Uncle Ben' had even come but Lisbon knew the actual reasoning behind their attendance and it made her shudder slightly.

Dean's silver BMW skidded into the driveway, spraying white stones in the air and cut the engine.  
He got out and his gelled ashy blonde hair was slightly tousled, his tie loose and his eyes hidden by his expensive sunglasses. His Blackberry was predictably planted against his ear.

Lisbon had to admit that his attractiveness was pretty much the only trait that she admired in Dean. It made her feel shallow and laughable, like she was some fifteen year old schoolgirl.

"Is that your…_boyfriend_?" Emily asked keeping her voice to barely a whisper, her little nose scrunching as if 'boyfriend' were a dirty word.

Lisbon smiled. "Yes. His name is Dean."  
"_Hmm_," Emily frowned, clearly disgusted. "But doesn't he have….germs?"  
Lisbon laughed at that. It had seemed so long ago when she herself had believed in 'boy germs'.

Dean walked towards them. His aura of business and decisions and important, mustn't-be-disturbed meetings looked alien in the sunlit toy-littered front yard.

As he got closer, Lisbon's bag in his hand, she heard him say. "Lets say two mill. Does that sound okay? Excellent. Bye." He snapped the phone shut with one hand and Lisbon wanted to say; "Oh, Dean, honey, stop being such a wanker!"

Lisbon felt embarrassed and began to blush. She didn't know why she should. She and her boyfriend had nothing to prove to a _four-year-old_. Yet she felt oddly intimidated with her relationship under Emily's blue eyed stare.

"Hi," he said to her, standing over Lisbon and Emily like freaking Godzilla. "I got your bag."  
"Thanks," Lisbon said as he dropped it beside her.

That's when Riley came out on the front porch. She was wearing an apron over her clothes and her hair was tied back into a messy ponytail. Lisbon noticed a smudge of spaghetti sauce streaked across one of her cheeks. She didn't have the heart to tell her.

"Emily, there you are," she said lifting the little girl up, who went willingly, clearly terrified of Dean.  
Emily buried her head shyly against Riley's neck and peeked at Dean.

Lisbon wondered why she was acting like that and then remembered Riley's comment about Emily's good judgment of character.

"Oh, hi, you must be Lisbon's partner," Riley said noticing him.  
Dean glanced at her quickly as if amazed that such a boring, plain human being was talking to him.  
"Yes."

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" Riley asked politely. "I feel terrible about taking Teresa away from you for so many evenings."

His sunglasses hid his eyes but there was no mistaking the look of shock and disgust that momentarily crossed his face as if he found the invitation offensive. Lisbon saw Riley's cheeks blush with embarrassment. Lisbon wanted so badly to hit him.

"Actually I have plans," he said, rather rudely.  
"Oh, okay," Riley said quietly, her face pink.

Emily touched the sauce on Riley's cheek and sucked it off of her finger experimentally. "We'll let you finish saying goodbye."  
Lisbon tried the best she could to smile apologetically back at Riley.

Of course, Riley would have expected them to 'finish saying goodbye'.

To exchange hugs and kisses and '_I love you'_s'. So maybe her relationship with Dean wasn't as Rockwellian as Patrick and Riley Jane's marriage but it was still intimate human interaction.

Sometimes she thought maybe she just went out with Dean to prove to people: _"Hey, hey, look! I can be close to people. I'm normal. See?_"

"I have an early flight tomorrow so I'll call you when I arrive in D.C," Dean said to her polishing his sunglasses on his collar.

"Boy, he'd be a convenient boy scout," Jane said behind her, his voice seething with dislike.  
"Okay," Lisbon said to Dean.  
"…with that tent pole stuck up his ass."

"That's settled," Dean said as if he and Lisbon had agreed on some business arrangement. "I'll talk to you then."  
Lisbon waved as he sped off in his shiny car and then turned to Jane who was leaning casually against the doorframe.

"Do you mind?"  
"What?" he said, shock crossing his face. "What did I do?"  
"Do you have to be such an asshole? That is my _boyfriend_ you're talking about."  
"I can be an asshole to anyone who is rude to my _wife_, Bon-Bon."  
Lisbon let out an enraged roar of fury.

Emily timidly appeared from behind the corner of the front door.  
"Are you okay, Teaser?" she asked quietly, clearly alarmed.

"Sorry, honey," Lisbon said quickly. "I'm fine. Just stubbed my toe on the step."  
"Mummy told me not to come out here until you finished saying bye to your boyfriend," her face wrinkled with disgust again at the word. "Dinner is nearly ready. Mummy's making zarn-ya."

Lisbon followed Emily's bouncing blonde curls to the kitchen.

Foster was standing with his arms crossed watching Riley intently who was stirring something over the stove.

"Mummy," Emily said joyously running into the kitchen and jumping into Riley's arms. "Is the zarn-ya finished yet?"  
"Nearly," Riley said putting a dab of sauce on the tip of Emily's nose with the wooden spoon before putting her down.  
Emily let out a shriek of delight and darted her tongue out trying to lick it off.  
Riley's weak smile didn't reach her dead eyes.

"Well, if Agent Lisbon is doing the night shift, I should go," Foster said quietly taking his jacket off the bar stool.

"What? No. You cant go. You have to stay for dinner," Riley said.  
"Oh, yes Froster, stay for dinner!" Emily exclaimed happily.  
"I think I'd better go," Foster said.

"Please stay," Riley said softly. "We're having lasagna."  
"See, Mummy wants you to stay," Emily was doing a tap dance of delight along the floorboards. "Teaser! Guess what? Froster is staying for dinner."  
"Jesus, Riley," said Foster under his breath. Lisbon smirked at how not even tough-surly-agent Foster was immune to Emily's charm.

Not five minutes later, the odd group was sitting around the dinner table.

Emily had become wriggly and giggly, almost as if they she was drunk.  
She seemed unable to sit still: she was sliding off her chair, constantly knocking cutlery on to the floor, and talked in high pitched, chipmunk voices over the top of people.

Lisbon wasn't sure whether this was regular behavior or Emily was doing this to entertain her given Lisbon was the one getting most of her attention.

Foster had his jaw clenched as if this dinner were some horrible medical procedure he had to endure.  
"What's for dessert, Mummy?" Emily asked. She was kicking the table leg rhythmically as she ate. "Maybe icecream? Or I know, marshmallows!"

"What about marshmallows melted over icecream?" Riley said to the little girl.  
"You can _do_ that?" Emily said her eyes wide.  
"Of course," she said tweaking Emily's nose affectionately.

Lisbon slipped into her pajamas later on and climbed into bed, it was only eight but she felt like she could sleep for hours after the horrendous night last night had been.

After tossing, turning and waking up each hour, Lisbon decided that there was no use trying to get to sleep. She was too tired to try. She hated that feeling.

She crept down the carpeted hallway and nearly missed her footing at the top of the stairs, grabbing for the banister. Maybe it would be convenient if she fell and banged her head again. Get rid of Jane-the-Pain.

As she got to the bottom she saw that there was a light on in the kitchen.  
Foster was seated at the kitchen table. He was packing up crime scene photos and files that were spread around him.

"Lisbon," he said startled as he looked up. "I was just about to leave."

"You don't have to jump up and run off just because I'm on night duty," Lisbon said. "I'm not going to get all territorial."

Foster sat back down slowly. "Coffee?" he offered holding up a pot.  
"Sure," Lisbon said.  
He poured it into two mugs and handed her one.

"Thanks," she said before tipping the liquid gold into her mouth. "So in your opinion, how dramatic are things around here?"

Foster shrugged. "It hasn't been easy. I swear, Emily's bipolar. She's all happy and cute and then the slightest reminder of her father whether it be a photo or brushing her hair, she goes absolutely crazy. It frightens the hell out of Riley."

"How is Riley coping?" Lisbon asked taking another sip.  
"She isn't," Foster sighed. "It's scary the way she looks sometimes. Like there's no point anymore. I told her to get back into writing. She's a writer too, you know? Wrote some short stories and novels a few years ago. But she doesn't write anymore or even play the piano like she used to. She doesn't watch T.V or listen to music. I suppose she's just trying to avoid any reminders…well, you know."

Lisbon nodded. "Is there any important things I need to know?"  
"Not a great deal," Foster said scratching his chin and then Lisbon realised he wasn't actually that bad looking, despite his moodiness towards her. "Oh, except Riley's insulin, of course. Sometimes Cassidy and I have to remind her to have her injections. So you might need to keep an eye on that."

"Injections?"

"Yeah, Riley's diabetic. Type one," he explained. "A few weeks after…it happened…Riley was so wrapped up in her grief that she forget and nearly went into diabetic coma. It was pretty serious. And another thing you should know is that Riley is sick all the time. Dizziness, nausea, vomiting…the works. So don't panic if she gets really sick. Ben thinks its just her stress and thinks that she should go see a doctor but she's pretty stubborn about that topic."

Lisbon noted this down carefully in her head.  
"Oh, and of course if you're working the night shift you should know about…."

Foster was cut off by a loud series of screams from upstairs. Lisbon had her hand on her gun ready to launch herself up the stairs when Foster reached out and grabbed her wrist.  
"Don't panic, it's just the nightmares."

"Nightmares?" Lisbon said slowly listening to tortured sounds.  
"Yeah, you'll get used to it after a while. It's not as bad as it used to be."

"Wow, that's pretty intense," Lisbon said wondering how bad it used to be if it was better now.  
"I know," Foster said standing from his chair and gathering his belongings. "You can leave anytime after Cassidy gets here which is at 6am. He leaves at 6pm, which is when you start. Here's my card if you need to ask anything else."

"Thanks," Lisbon said taking it. He wasn't that bad after all. A bit of a jerk but a decent agent all the same.

Lisbon ended up back in bed, trying to block out the moans and whimpers and yells from Riley's room. Lisbon felt terrible and guilty like she was intruding on Riley's private grief.

"Hey," Jane said by the doorway.  
"Hi," Lisbon said tiredly.  
"Can I come in?"  
"Would you listen to me if I said no?"  
"Probably not," he smirked walking over and sitting on the end of her bed.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Lisbon wasn't sure what to say. All the good natured banter seemed inappropriate.

"Do you miss them?" she asked quietly.  
"What?"  
"Is it..hard knowing that you wont be able to be with them? Being apart from them?" Lisbon said fiddling with the hem of her quilt.

"Yes," he said. He was sitting where it was dark so Lisbon couldn't see his face to read his facial expression.  
"It is the second worst way that Red John could have punished me."

Lisbon wondered what the first one was but chose not to ask.  
"But I want them to be safe and happy. It's the only thing I've ever wanted. Both in my life and death."

"I can only guarantee safe," Lisbon said. She had no idea if it were even possible for Riley to ever be happy again.  
"That's what I asked you to do."  
"Asked," Lisbon scoffed.  
Another scream echoed through the house and Jane winced painfully like he was being burned.

"Well, I should let you sleep," he said.  
"What, no serenade tonight?" Lisbon said playfully trying to make him feel better.  
"No, you've been fairly cooperative."

She opened her mouth to ask where he was going when he stood up when it struck her that he was going to spend the night in Riley or Emily's room. She felt embarrassed that she had expected anything else.

"Goodnight, Lisbon," Jane said softly from the doorway.  
"Night, Jane," she said snuggling into her pillow.

000

Ben Cassidy was a large jolly man who reminded Lisbon of a teddy bear. Upon meeting her, he swept her into a massive bear hug that lifted her feet off the ground before scooping Emily into his other giant arm with her shrieks of "Uncle Ben!".  
It was clear that Emily adored this gentle giant.

Ben greeted Riley with a familiar smile and went to pat her on the arm before drawing his arm back at the last second like Minelli had done. It seemed she didn't want to touch anyone. Not even this warm honorary big brother like man who she loved.

Lisbon found herself getting closer to the Janes. It was dangerous, she knew, but it was inevitable like falling in love. That's exactly what had happened, she was falling in love with this family and it was only her first week.

Emily was by far the sweetest child that had lived and Lisbon's fridge in her apartment was now covered in finger paintings of the two together that were done by Emily.

She was feeling warmer and warmer towards Riley too. Helping make dinner, playing cards late at night, taking Emily to preschool and even planning her fifth birthday party together. Quickly, Lisbon was developing a friendship with another female. Something she had never had before.

This made it even harder for Lisbon to stand Riley's depression which didn't seem to be getting any better. But Lisbons priority was their safety and it was just an added bonus if she finally ever managed to see Riley smile properly.

It was a rainy, cold night and Emily was in bed by the time Lisbon arrived on Monday night.

Riley was at the kitchen table with her face in her hands. Fathers Day was next week and Emily had dissolved into tears at school when all the other children were making Fathers Day cards. She had cried herself to sleep in Riley's arms that night.

"You go have shower," Lisbon said putting her hand on Riley's shoulder. Riley flinched slightly at her touch but didn't move away.  
"No, its fine I-"  
"No," Lisbon said sternly, willing to use force if necessary. "You're going to go have a shower and clear you're head."

Riley was in the shower, trying to unknot the tension in her shoulders when the lights went out and the water turned icy cold.  
"And my night is complete," she muttered turning off the tap.

She stepped out into the cold air and wrapped her towel around her.  
"Teresa?" she asked wringing out her dark hair.  
"Yeah?" Lisbon said back from the kitchen.  
"Do you know where Ben put the candles? I remember him saying he had some in here."

"Um, I think he said the second drawer," Lisbon told her as she put the kettle on.  
It's taking Riley an awful long time, Lisbon thought after about ten minutes, grabbing the torch.

Jane had told her to develop an automatic tendency to expect the worst when it came to Riley. So Lisbon thought maybe she had fallen over and was bleeding from the head while her lungs filled up with water. It wasn't unusual.

From Jane's stories, their marriage was littered with fractures, concussions, nosebleeds and an assortment of bumps and bruises. He always had to make sure that they had enough frozen peas packets in the freezer to get through the week when she would invariably find some way to wound herself simply by walking up the stairs.

Lisbon knocked on the bathroom door quietly.

"Riley, are you okay?"

No answer.

She opened the door just to make sure that she wasn't in fact bleeding from the head. Although what she did see was as equally alarming.

Riley was slumped against the wall, wrapped in her towel. She was sitting in a small puddle of blood, silver in the darkness, that was running down from the two deep vicious gashes across both her wrists. A letter opener was held limply in her left hand.

Riley's eyes fluttered as Lisbon's torch light fell on her.  
"Teresa?" she said weakly.  
"Riley what have you done?"

Lisbon ran over to her and tried to stem the flow of blood. Riley's head lolled to the side again as she began to lose consciousness.

"JANE!" Lisbon screamed. "HELP ME!" 


	6. Nightmare

**Hi, everyone. I should warn you that this chapter has constant mentions of suicide, lots of dark themes and loads of drama. I promise to get back to the humour soon, though. I'm a little worried at how this chapter turns out because I'm not that much of a drama writer but I gave it a whirl. **

**NIGHTMARE**

A black SUV came screeching into the Broken Hill Medical Centre, narrowly missing a telephone pole.

Foster nearly took the door off the car in his haste to get out. Lisbon was talking to a psychiatrist. Next to him was a creepy looking guy in mint green scrubs.

"Lisbon," he growled, his dark eyes boring into her green ones. "Where's Riley? Is she okay?"  
"That's what we were just trying to determine," the man said morosely. "And you are?"

"Dr Chapel, this is Agent Foster," Lisbon said and then turned to Foster. "Dr Chapel is the Janes psychiatrist."  
"Psychiatrist?" Foster said narrowing his eyes at the doctor. "What happened?"

"I found her in the bathroom," Lisbon told him. "Foster…Foster, she cut her wrists."  
Foster just stared at Lisbon like she was insane.

"I feel so guilty," Lisbon said collapsing into a chair. "I should have seen it coming. She hasn't been getting any sleep and she's been nauseated all the time."

Foster wasn't interested in listening to Lisbon's self flogging.  
"Doctor, I don't understand, why would Riley do this to herself?

The doctor sighed. "It's a combination of factors: family history, stress, sleep deprivation, loss of a loved one. But we will start treatment immediately."

"Where's Emily?" Foster said turning to Lisbon.  
"At home with Cassidy," Lisbon told him. "She doesn't know."

Lisbon was consumed with guilt. She had promised Jane to keep his family safe. But she only had be thinking of protecting them from Red John, not themselves. Jane was standing by Emily's doorway watching her sleep, restless because of the thunderstorm outside. When the power went out he was worried that she would wake up and be scared of the dark.

Lisbon had screamed for him to help her and his dead heart turned to ice and he knew that something was very, very wrong. When he got to the bathroom and saw Riley covered in blood, he was certain that his nightmare had come true.

Lisbon was trying to keep Riley conscious and stem the flow of her bleeding. Jane wanted so desperately to be able to help her. He tried to grab at Riley's wrist but his hand went right through her. Lisbon saw a fierce look of determination and concentration of his face as he tried again and managed to grasp it, keeping pressure there.

"You can touch her?" Lisbon said.  
"If I try really hard," Jane said taking her other wrist from Lisbon. "I'll keep the pressure on her wrists and you go call an ambulance."

Lisbon's fingers, sticky in Riley's blood, fumbled in panic on the buttons. She had to take a deep, shaky breath and press 9-1-1 slowly. When the person at the other end of the line asked for the address, Lisbon was in such shock that she couldn't remember it for the life of her. Jane whispered it to her and Lisbon's voice trembled uncontrollably as she repeated it into phone.

Jane was with Riley now, who had been heavily sedated.  
"Can we see her?" Foster asked the doctor.

He turned to Foster with cold eyes.  
"One at a time," he said. "And be very gentle, her condition is very unstable and we have to keep her vitals under control."

Jane was sitting besides Riley's bed, holding her hand. She couldn't feel his thumb caressing her palm and just kept staring at the cracks in the ceiling with the most lost look a person could have.

"Hey," Foster said opening the door a little. "How you doing?"  
"Oh, this one," Jane mumbled rolling his eyes. Jane stood up quickly, reluctantly letting Riley's hand go before Foster could sit on him as he took the chair next to Riley.

"Out of it," Riley answered him in a woozy voice. "From the sedatives they gave me."  
"So," Foster said treading carefully in these trouble waters. "What happened."  
"I don't know," Riley said closing her eyes.

"Riley," he said, just nudging her fingertips. "If you want to talk about things…"  
"I mean I literally don't know," Riley said opening his eyes to look at him.

Jane smirked slightly when she subtly moved her hand away from Foster's, placing it on her stomach.

"I was in the shower, all the lights went out and then..it's just all jumbled after that. Then I just woke up on the floor bleeding."  
Foster looked at her with a concerned look on his face.

"Foster, I'm a writer," Riley said. "If I was going to kill myself, I would leave one hell of a suicide note."  
Foster smiled a little at this. "Is there anything else you can remember?"

"I think there was someone else in the room with me," Riley said thoughtfully, averting her eyes back to the ceiling.  
"Lisbon didn't see anyone," Foster countered.  
"I didn't see anyone either," Riley told him. "I could just _feel_ someone there."

Jane shuddered at the thought and felt a surge of murderous rage course through him at someone hurting her.  
He glanced back at Foster. As much as he didn't like him being in such close proximity to her (for his own selfish reasons) he knew she would safe with the armed, overly-protective agent so he left to find Lisbon.

She was still in her chair, her face pale while she held a cup of coffee. It had gone cold

"Hey," Jane said sitting next to her.  
Lisbon jumped at his voice and looked around quickly to see if anyone had noticed her involuntary action. The last thing she need was to get herself admitted.

She stood up and walked to the empty corridor so they could talk, stopping in front of Riley's room.  
Jane stood next to her.

"Are you okay?" she asked him quietly.  
"No," he admitted. "You?"  
"No."

"Don't blame yourself," Jane told her after a few minutes of silence.  
"It's hard not to," Lisbon said. "I promised you I'd keep them safe."

"I know you cant keep an eye on her every single second, I should have been watching her," Jane said sadly. "I'm just glad she's okay." He sighed and stared with so much love at Riley who was drifting off to sleep again while Foster chatted away.

"Yeah, I should've noticed that something was up," Lisbon sighed taking a sip of her ice cold coffee and grimacing.

"You couldn't have known that someone was in the bathroom," Jane reassured her. "We just need to be more careful from now on. I don't plan on giving whoever did this a second chance at hurting her."

Lisbon stared at Jane, confused. "Jane…Riley did this herself."  
"I know my wife, Lisbon," Jane said confidently. "She would never do something like that."

"She's a different person now, Jane," Lisbon told him. "She's depressed and grieving. It changes people."  
"Not her," Jane said shaking his head. "She loves Emily too much to ever hurt her that way."

Lisbon sighed. He was clearly in denial and she was too tired to argue with him. She changed the subject.

"So what other ghostly things can you do?"  
This caught his attention. "Ghostly things?"

"I'm confused," Lisbon admitted. "Sometimes you can touch things, sometimes you cant? It sounds like a dodgy slash horror film."

"Yes," Jane and smiled in a way that made Lisbons heart stutter. "I have to concentrate really hard and will myself to touch things."

"But people cant…feel you?" Lisbon pressed.  
"No," he shook his head. "It's a one way experience."  
"That's confusing," Lisbon said rubbing her temple.

"Give me your arm," Jane said.  
Lisbon cautiously held out her arm.

Jane ran his fingers across her skin from the crease of her elbow to her wrist and back again.  
It was weird. She could see him touching her but her skin was completely indifferent to his touch and couldn't feel a thing at all.

Lisbon shivered even though she wasn't all that cold and took her arm away.  
"I better get home," she said. "This situation is going to have stacks of paperwork attached to it."

Jane narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm sorry that Riley nearly bleeding to death is such an inconvenience to you."

Lisbon stared shocked and tripped on her words in a haste to get them out. "Jane, I'm sorry, I didn't mean.."  
"I'm just playing with you," he smiled though it didn't reach his eyes with were still filled with bloodlust.

Lisbon exhaled loudly. "That's not funny."  
"It will be when you think about it in five years time."

"I'll take your word for that," she said and picked up her bag.  
"Are you staying?" she asked already knowing the answer, he wouldn't leave Riley out of his sight after this.

Jane nodded not taking his eyes off Riley's sleeping form.  
He heard Lisbon sigh softly and leave. When she was gone, Jane slipped back into Riley's room.

Riley was sleeping more soundly than she had for weeks, Jane noticed. Her little frown was gone and her lips were parted slightly as she breathed slowly.

Foster reached out and gently touched Riley's hand. Jane exhaled through his nose and clenched his fist.  
Riley _clearly_ didn't want him to touch her while she was awake so it was unfair to do so while she was asleep and unable to move her hand away.

Foster stood up as the orderly came in with a syringe. He looked familiar to Jane. He remembered doing a reading for him a few years back. Really creepy guy, he remembered.

"Excuse me," the orderly said in his cold, sinister voice. "But it is time for Mrs Jane's medication."

Foster just nodded but didn't leave.  
"In case your pea brain cant take a hint," Jane said reclaiming his chair. "That's doctor-speak for GET LOST!"

"Are you Mrs Jane's spouse?" the orderly asked.  
"He wishes," Jane muttered. Foster shook his head slowly.  
"Then I'm going to have to ask you to wait outside."

"Yeah, only spouses allowed," Jane said childishly, glad that Lisbon wasn't here to roll her eyes or shake her head at his immaturity.

Jane was a little disturbed at the smile of the orderly's face as he squirted the clear liquid from the tip of the syringe. Masochistic, much?

"Hey, watch it!" Jane yelled standing up when the orderly stabbed the syringe into Riley's arm roughly and she winced slightly in her sleep.

When he was alive, he had the annoying habit of treating Riley like glass, making the biggest fuss about every scratch or bruise she acquired. It upset him now when people where less than gentle with her and he could do absolutely nothing about it.

The orderly left and Jane sat contently playing with Riley's hair and then heard Foster come back into the room.  
"Why can't you just oh, I don't know, jump in front of a bus?" Jane asked him in a polite voice.

Unlike Jane, Riley was enjoying herself. She was having a very pleasant dream, something lovely and normal that reminded her of nothing. She couldn't grasp what her dream was about or if she was even having one but she felt perfectly at peace. Then something dark and ominous seeped into her dream and she could feel panic bubble in her stomach.

She looked down and saw Emily laying on the floor, smiling at her. There was spaghetti sauce on her nose.  
Riley smiled back and for once, it didn't hurt.

"What are you doing down there, sweetheart?" Riley asked.  
"It's Fathers Day, Mummy," Emily said sadly and then her eyes filled with tears. Riley bent down to comfort her.  
"It's okay, honey." But when Riley took Emily in her arms, Emily screamed and shrieked like she was being set on fire and started twitching.

"Emily?" Riley said and gasped when she noticed it wasn't spaghetti sauce on Emily's nose. It was blood.  
And it wasn't just on her nose. It was in her hair, all over her clothes, her face, her little body. All over her husband who lay next to her.

Emily stopped trembling in Riley's arms and froze. Riley looked back at her little girl and stared into her dead, lifeless eyes and then up at the smiley face on the wall.

Jane had no idea what to do. Riley was practically having a seizure. One moment he was looking at her serene face, beautiful in his calmness and now it was screwed up in what looked like unbearable agony.

He touched his hand to her forehead which was burning. Her body convulsed and she screamed his name.

"I'm right here," Jane said soothingly, patting her hand forgetting that she couldn't hear him.  
"Riley?" Foster said unsurely reaching out and taking her other arm. She screamed in response to his hold.  
"DON'T-TOUCH-HER!" Jane yelled.

Riley's eyes which had been shut tightly, opened and her pupils were wide and her eyes beyond reason as she screamed and thrashed against her pillow. One of the machines beeped in the background.

Dr Chapel came in, flanked by four other doctors who held Riley's limbs tightly against the bed. Dr Chapel injected another syringe into Riley like she was some kind of human pin cushion.

Riley's screaming lessened but she continued to fight weakly against the men that held her and eventually succumbed to the sedative.

Jane was in shock. He had never seen her like that. And worse, he couldn't help her. He had to sit back and watch while something tortured his beloved Riley. It was worse than her nightmares, which were agony enough for him.

"Orderly!" Dr Chapel said and the creepy orderly stalked over as if he had swooped in like a bat. "Please take Mrs Jane to the psych ward upstairs and tell Dr Camden that she's on high alert. Make sure she's comfortable."

Jane had his forehead pressed to the cold glass of the window as he watched Riley sleep on the other side. It was a tiny window now, in a locked door. The room was empty except for a window and the bed which she lay on. Her wrists and ankles were now tied in restraints.

Foster came and stood beside him and Jane was too drained to hate him.  
Both men watched her intently until Dr Chapel interrupted them.

"Agent Foster, isn't it?" he said.  
"Yes," Foster said coldly.  
"I am sad to see such a young vibrant woman with so much potential in this state," the psychiatrist said. "I am determined to treat this illness aggressively."

"Thanks for coming by but we have it under control," Foster said dismissively.

"Agent Foster," Dr Chapel said, looking at Riley as well. "This is a local med centre. I'm sure if Riley scraped her knee, she'd be in good hands. But something like this requires a more experienced touch. I'll make sure she has the best care possible."

Foster and Jane froze at the same time. Jane didn't like the sound of that.

"You're going to _transfer_ her?" Foster growled, his fists balled up by his sides.  
"The ambulance is ready to go. She'll be in Northside before she wakes up."

"Northside?" Jane said angrily. "Not Northside _Mental Hospital_?"

"Riley doesn't belong in Northside," Foster said in an equally angry tone and for once, Jane agreed with the man.  
"Listen," Dr Chapel said clapping Foster on the shoulder. "I know how hard it is to see people we care about in this state but I promise to take good care of her."

Foster stalked off angrily past the doctor, off to complain to whoever was higher up in the medical board than psychiatrists.

Jane looked back at his wife, who looked so peaceful and lovely in her deep sleep. It pained him to see her wrists so harshly bound like that. They were probably hurting her.

He looked around the corridor before glancing at the window in Riley's room, his face a picture of indecision but when he looked back at Riley, his mind was made up.

He was certain Lisbon would kill him for what he was about to do. He could already hear her angry voice saying "What the hell are you doing?" in his ear.

000

"What the hell are you doing?" Lisbon said rounding on Jane as she slammed her paperwork down on her kitchen table. "She should be in the hospital!"

Jane carefully laid Riley down on Lisbon's bed. "Shh!" he said to her putting a finger to his lips. "You'll wake her up."

"I will not shhh until you tell me why and how the hell she isn't at the med centre!"  
"They wanted to transfer her to Northside," Jane told her looking at Riley's sleeping form with adoration.  
Lisbon sighed and walked over to them, plonking herself down at the end of the bed.

"Jane..maybe that's what she needs right now."  
"You don't know what goes on it there!" he said. "Do you really want doctors poking around inside Riley's head?"  
"If it makes her feel better, I don't care if Daffy Duck whacks her head with a mallet!"

Riley stirred and her eyes fluttered open.  
"Now you've done it," Jane muttered.  
"Lisbon?" Riley said, confused as she looked around.

"Hey," Lisbon said softy. "How you feeling?"  
"Like my head is about to explode," Riley said putting her palms against her temples.  
"I'll go get you a panadol and some water," Lisbon said before hissing to Jane: "Can you not do anything ridiculous for two minutes?"

Lisbon went to the kitchen and filled up a glass of water and rummaged through her medicine drawer until she found the tiny box of paracetamol. She heard Jane come up behind her.

"Lisbon, I have a theory that you might be interested-"  
"Wait your turn," Lisbon snapped. "How did Riley get out of her restraints at the hospital?"  
"How did you know she was in restraints?" Jane asked curiously.  
"Foster called."  
"Of course, he did," Jane muttered. Foster. Bloody Foster.

"You have five seconds to answer before I call Dr Chapel," Lisbon said.  
"And tell him what? That the spirit of Riley's dead husband stole her from the hospital and brought her to your apartment. Yes, Dr Chapel would have a field day with that."

"JANE!" she bellowed and then remembered Riley was in the next room.

"Sorry, sorry," he said putting his hands up. "It took me a while, but I managed to get her restraints off. Then I managed to actually hold her, I've never been able to do that before."

He smiled at Lisbon as if he expected praise for this accomplishment. She folded her arms across her chest and huffed.

"And then I took her out the window and brought her here."  
"Did anyone see you?" Lisbon asked. She tried to picture Riley's body floating in mid air.  
"No."

Lisbon sighed. "That's a start then. Now what's your theory."

"There was this orderly at the hospital. Really creepy bloke I did a reading for a couple of years ago," Jane said.  
"He injected Riley with something and she went crazy not long after. That's when Dr Chapel called Northside."

"Jane, that's all circumstantial," Lisbon said. "I know you don't want to believe that Riley.."  
"Lisbon, please," Jane said. "Just look into it for me."  
"I'm not going to investigate some orderly just because he gave Riley a needle. There's no way.."

"_I hope it's something worth the waiting,  
It's the only time that I ever feel real.  
Thunderstorms could never stop me,  
'Cause there's no one-"_

"For Gods Sake!" Lisbon hissed over the top of him. "Is that going to be your way of getting everything you want from me?"

"Well, I could always revert back to calling you by your endearing nicknames but I thought I'd spice things up tonight."

Lisbon groaned. "Fine. I'll have Riley take this and then I'll look into, you fiend! Did you manage to at least get a name?"

Lisbon looked up on her computer the name that Jane had given her, William Bunting.  
She gasped when the search results came up making Jane come over and peer behind her shoulder.

"This article is from two years ago. William Bunting, graduate from Princeton University and orderly at Ardrossan Mental Hospital gave a controversial speech at the Annual Medical Board Euthanasia Panel Conference. Not only did Bunting believe that the terminally ill and elderly had to right to end their life but people of all ages suffering forms of depression or PTS should also have the right to assisted suicide," Lisbon read.

"Why did he leave Ardrossan and come to Broken Hill Med?" Jane asked.  
Lisbon scrolled down the page and clicked on a promise article. Her eyes widened.

"It doesn't say but I'll let your mind wander. It says here that there was an investigation into an increased number of suspicious suicides at Ardrossan that all happened the same year that Bunting was working there. Once he left and went to Broken Hill Med, the issue disappeared. Funnily enough, suicides in the Broken Hill area, where you guys live, have doubled."

"I remember now what the reading was about," Jane said quietly. "His mother…she committed suicide by driving her car off her bridge with two of her children in the backseat. They all drowned."

"That's intense," Lisbon said. "Should I call Minelli?"  
Jane shook his head. "Let me just go to Bunting's house, see if I can find anything. Like you said, everything is circumstantial."

"Jane," Lisbon said slowly. "Is it possible…that Bunting could be Red John?"  
Jane shrugged. "Maybe, but let me check it out first. Could you stay with Riley?"

Lisbon nodded and was about to say 'be careful' until she realised how utterly ridiculous it sounded.  
She stood up and went over into her room where Riley was sitting up and picking at the bandages on her wrist.

"Hey," Lisbon said sitting next to her.  
"Hi," Riley said sadly.  
"How you holding up?"  
"Apart from everyone thinking I'm about to go kill myself, I'm doing great," Riley said her blue eyes brimming with tears.

"Riley, I found you bleeding on your bathroom floor, there was a letter opener in your hand. You have to understand what it looks like to people."

"I know," Riley said, terrified. "I don't know what's happening to me but I didn't hurt myself. I would never do that to Emily."

Lisbon just sat in silence and waited for Jane to get back when the doorbell rang.  
She froze, maybe it was someone from the hospital looking for Riley.  
Goodness, would Lisbon be arrested for kidnapping a patient?

She went to the door and her heart thundered in fear when she saw it was someone in scrubs. Yep, definitely from the hospital.

"Hi," she said awkwardly. "How can I help you?"  
"I'm looking for Riley Jane, ma'am," he said. "She's been missing from the hospital."

"Nope, sorry, haven't seen her," Lisbon said quickly.  
She was about to shut the door when the man put his foot in front of it.  
"You have to understand that Mrs Jane is on suicide alert. She is very dangerous to herself and others."

"I understand perfectly so I will call you if I hear anything," Lisbon smiled. "What was your name?"  
"William Bunting," he said and Lisbon felt the tip of something sharp and cold against her shirt. She was terrified to look down. "May I come in?"

Riley was sitting on the bed, playing with the baggy shape of her hospital gown. She was still confused as to how and why she was here. She wanted to ask Lisbon but was too terrified that she would be taken back to that awful place with the horrible dreams.

Lisbon walked in a moment later, her face pale but her eyes cautious as she looked at Riley.

A man followed her into the room. Riley recognised him as the man she had felt very creeped out by at the hospital as he kept standing by her door and staring at her when Riley pretended to sleep.

"Teresa," Riley said quietly. "What's going on?"  
Bunting smiled warmly at her and he had some length of rope in his hand.

Lisbon watched in fear as Bunting walked over to Riley. Her gun was on the kitchen table and there was no way she could get it.  
She begged that Jane get here soon. But even then, what could he do?

"Its okay, Riley," he said gently and soothingly, kneeling beside her and stroking her hair tenderly.  
"I'm here to make you stop hurting. I'm going to make it all go away."


	7. Ordeal

**YAAAWWN, first day of school today (never fun). This is another angst-filled little number but I promise the next one will be full of fun, Jane/Lisbon banter and Emily cuteness so please bear the drama and hang on! I didn't have time to edit this one so they may be a few mistakes…..**

**ORDEAL**

Jane didn't know what to look for as he stood in William Bunting's living room. He had no idea what to expect a potential killer's house to look like. In his head he imagined a wrought iron gate, stone gargoyles, candles and newspaper clippings hanging from ceiling with a ginormous grandfather clock and bearskin rug.

But he was disappointed when Bunting's house appeared as normal and suburban as any other Broken Hill home. He didn't even have one of those front doors that made that chilling 'I am so going to be murdered right now' creak when you opened it. Jane thought that was standard issue for a serial killer.

It didn't appear that Bunting was home which was, in a way, better as Jane didn't know how he could handle being in proximity with the man who hurt his wife like that and be able to do nothing.

The house was neat and tidy but eerily so. No empty mugs lying around, no photo frames. Not a thing out of place or sign of actual life. The entire set up was artfully aligned as if stylized by a real estate agent. Jane's eyes fell on something that did prove existence in this empty house. By a single armchair there was a small glass placed on the table.

He walked over to it and saw that there was a trickle of a liquid amber substance left at the bottom. A spirit of some kind. There was no coaster resting underneath the glass but three blue files with papers inside. Jane titled his head, unable to drain himself of energy by moving the glass, and read the names that were clipped to the top.

_McALLISTER, Eloise  
BENNETT, Michelle  
CAHILL, Phoebe_

There was one that was spread open on the coffee table and Jane prayed that it wasn't even though he knew very well it was.

_JANE, Riley _

If Jane had wondered how Bunting picked his victims, he had a pretty clear idea now. It was obvious he went for young women with depression who had children. And every he needed to know to find these women was conveniently stored at the medical centre.

Medical history, psychiatrist reports, address, prescriptions...

This made Jane shudder. If some orderly could get his hands on this information, Red John most certainly could.  
There was something else weird about this situation that Jane couldn't quite place. This house was organised and in perfect order. It didn't seem that Bunting would just have left a glass on the table and Riley's medical file lying open. Something wasn't right.

000 

"I know things seem pretty bad right now," Bunting said as he tied Riley's wrists tighter to the chair she was tied to. "But its going to be all right. I'll help you."

Lisbon had her back against the wall, edging millimetre by millimetre to the door. She just needed a five second diversion to get her gun from the table. Riley was looking down at the floor, contemplating the pattern of the wood.

Though perhaps she felt Lisbon's eyes boring into her head because she glanced up and met Lisbons eyes.  
Hoping that the lords could bless Riley with telepathy just for the moment, Lisbon tried to talk to Riley using just her eyes. To warn her what she was about to do.

Riley gave no indication of understanding but went back to staring at the floor as Bunting checked that his knots were substantial. He was bent down at least and it would take him a few seconds to hear Lisbon's feet.  
Lisbon took a deep breath and took the door handle in her hand, turning it slowly.

Bunting heard the creak of the handle and looked up so Lisbon opened the door at the same time that Riley rocked to the right so her chair tipped over and Bunting went stumbling over her in his haste to reach Lisbon. He stretched out his arm and managed to grab one of her ankles, making her slam to the ground.

Bunting dragged her upright and slammed her against the wall, holding her chin up with his hand.  
He pressed the flat edge of the knife to Lisbon's throat and whispered delicately in her ear. "This is only going to hurt a little bit."

"Well, this is going to hurt a lot," Lisbon said kneeing him in the groin making his grip loosen in pain.  
Lisbon struggled out of his grasp and ran to the dining table, her fingers outstretched. He was fast though and reached her right at the last second. Still doubled over in pain, he grabbed her leg and her face smashed into the side of the table.

She felt blood gush from her nose as Bunting dragged her upright and dragged her back into the room.  
This time he tied Lisbon to a chair also and stood Riley's up so they could face each other.  
Riley's head was still down, her dark hair making a curtain around her face.

Riley looked completely unshaken and neutral. Unlike Lisbon, Riley didn't appear to be worried at all. Lifeless, was the word Lisbon was thinking of. No hint of emotion on Riley's face. As usual.  
Riley looked up at Lisbon through the tresses of her hair in a manner that clear spoke 'are you okay?'

Lisbon nodded. Actually she was petrified and her face hurt like hell, but was trying her best not to let it show.

"Does it hurt?" Bunting said and Lisbon was about to come up with some hasty, crude remark when she realised he wasn't talking to her. He was standing over Riley.

"Feel like you want to hurt yourself?"  
Anger welled up in Lisbon's insides, feeling protective of Riley who just looked so fragile and lifeless next to this evil man.  
Bunting unwrapped the bandages on one Riley's wrists and she gasped slightly in pain at the pressure as his finger trailed over the deep slash.

"You really are sick, Mrs Jane."  
"Look who's talking," Lisbon spat, her eyes seething with hatred as she struggled against her restraints.  
"These problems squirm just beneath the skin, but I can make them go away," Bunting said caressing the flat side of his knife against Riley's deep cut.

"Don't touch her!" Lisbon yelled.  
"I'm just trying to help before she ends up in an asylum," Bunting now turned to Lisbon. "Or her daughter ends up the one who pays for her depression. She's worried about that too. It's one of her squirmy things."

Lisbon was petrified as he left Riley and walked towards her but maintained her glare.  
"I take my girls secrets..and they take mine," he raised the knife above Lisbon. "Forever."  
Lisbon winced and closed her eyes.

"No, wait!" Riley yelled. "I'm sorry."  
"So am I but I have to do what's necessary!"  
Lisbon was certain she was about to be killed and there was nothing Riley could say to stop it.

"NO! HELP ME WILLIAM," Riley screamed. "I NEED YOU TO HELP ME!"

Lisbon peeked and saw Bunting's face soften and the knife he was holding drop to his side.  
He walked away from Lisbon and over to Riley, kneeling beside her.

"I need you to take away all my secrets," Riley begged, tears cascading down her cheeks now. "Just like you did before. Please make it stop hurting."

He held her hand. "Anything for my girls."  
Lisbon's eyes were wide with horror when she realised what Riley was doing. Riley was stalling Bunting by letting him kill her first. No, this was all wrong.

Bunting gently pressed the knife into her wrist, intent on recreating the wounds he had given her when he broke into her house. Lisbon felt her eyes brim with tears, knowing there was nothing she could do or say. She prayed for Jane to burst through the doors right…

At that moment, three gunshots fired into the room and Lisbon screamed and nearly toppled out of her chair in surprise.

Lisbon wasn't sure how but Bunting was on the floor, his eyes rolling as blood poured from his neck, his chest and abdomen.

Lisbon tried to crane her neck to see who was behind her. Maybe Foster or Cassidy or even one of her team had saved them. She smiled with relief and turned to face Riley, to tell that everything was okay.

But when she faced Riley, she noticed that Riley's eyes were staring up at the figure behind her. There was no lifelessness to Riley's eyes now. They were filled with horror and revulsion.

There was only one person in the world who could produce that amount of emotion out of her and Lisbon stiffened, her heart missing a beat as a cloaked figure in a mask walked past her slowly.

Red John kneeled beside Bunting who was still twitching and produced a large hunting knife. Lisbon, who knew what was coming shut her eyes but Riley was not as quick and watched in horror as he cut Bunting's throat with a quick, vicious swipe.

Her stomach lurched and she bit down on her lip so she didn't vomit as he dipped two fingers into Bunting's neck and turned to draw an unfinished smiley face on Lisbon's wall. The blood hadn't congealed properly so it looked like the face was crying.

Riley wondered, in some part of her mind, if she could get prints before she noticed Red John wore rubber kitchen gloves.

"Riley," Lisbon whispered steadily. "Look at me."

She couldn't. She wanted to but she was unable to tear her eyes away from the man who had caused her so much pain.

Red John turned towards Riley and walked over to her, his steps echoing throughout the room.  
He squatted down so he could look at Riley straight in the face and Riley did not take her stare off of him.

Lisbon counted twenty seconds in her head. It felt like two hours.  
Red John took his knife, still splattered in red from Bunting's blood and Lisbon was overcome with terror.

"Hey!" Lisbon yelled. "Get the hell away from her!"  
He made no notice of Lisbon and slashed his knife. Lisbon gasped in horror until she saw that he had only cut the rope that was binding Riley's exposed wrist.

Red John made quick work of binding Riley's wrist back up with her bandage and tying it with a neat bow. He gently loosened the other ropes so she wasn't uncomfortable but still strong enough to hold her.  
He picked up Lisbon's mobile phone which he must have retrieved when he came into her house.

The fact that Red John knew where she lived all this time made Lisbon shudder.  
He dialed a number and left it open on the bed before he swiftly left the room, his footsteps making soft thuds. Lisbon heard her front door shut.

"Riley?" she said her voice now shaking uncontrollably from the ordeal she had just endured. She couldn't imagine how badly this night had shattered Riley's already fragile state.

Riley was staring down at Bunting's lifeless body, the pool of blood surrounding him was expanded and seeped into Riley's shoes.

"Riley?" Lisbon repeated again as Riley turned as chalky as a corpse. Perhaps the shock of the situation had finally settled in – a little late, Lisbon thought.

"Lisbon!" Jane shouted running into the room. He stopped dead and his face turned to sheer terror as he saw Red John's symbol splashed on Lisbon's wall before taking a deep breath of relief when he saw Lisbon shaken, but alive, strapped in the chair.

Then he noticed Bunting's dead body spread on the ground in a dark pool of blood and Riley looking just as lifeless.  
"What the hell happened?" he nearly shouted, his voice trembling with the same fear that was in Lisbon's.  
Lisbon shook her head. She would explain everything to him when Riley wasn't present. Lisbon didn't know how much more she could take tonight.

"RILEY? LISBON?" two loud voices yelled.  
"We're in here!" Lisbon yelled to them. "In here."

Cassidy and Cho came racing into the room.  
"What the hell?" Cassidy growled seeing Bunting's body on the floor and the smile on the wall.  
"B-Bunting was th-the one who h-hurt Riley," Lisbon said shakily as Cho untied her. "He d-did it s-so he could.."  
"How about you tell me all about it when we get home," Cassidy said calmly. He was over by Riley, untying the loose rope and trying his hardest not to put any pressure on her wrists.

Get home, Lisbon thought. This place, her apartment…Red John had tainted it. This could never be her home again.  
She looked for Jane and found him standing by the corner, his hands gripping his face so tightly it looked like he was trying to rip it from his skull. Lisbon noticed his body posture shift as Cassidy half carried Riley past her.  
He could even _look_ at her.

"How did you know where to find me?" Lisbon asked Cho after fifteen minutes of silence in the car. The quaver in her voice seemed to have calmed a little and she was attempted to wipe off the dried blood from her face, relieved that her nose didn't seem to be broken.

Cho looked at her oddly. "The message you sent me. You said you were at your place and you needed help. So I called Agent Cassidy and he said you and Mrs Jane had gone AWOL."  
Lisbon stared darkly out the window.

Riley had her head pressed against the window, her eyes were closed and her entire body was drained. Lisbon imagined that this was due to the cocktail of drugs that were swimming around in her bloodstream.

"Wez Mly?" she mumbled and Lisbon didn't understand what she said.  
"At home with Jill," Cassidy whispered softly as if a voice any louder would break her.  
Lisbon assumed that Jill was Ben Cassidy's wife. She had read her name before.

"How the hell did you manage to kill Bunting?" Cho said quietly.  
Lisbon dropped her voice to a whisper. "I didn't. It was Red John, he was there. He killed Bunting."  
"And left you two alive?" Cho sounded skeptic. "Why would he do that?"

"Didn't want to share," Lisbon guessed glancing back at Riley's catatonic form, wondering when the shock would pass and she would break down.  
A few minutes of silence past.

"Hell, Lisbon," Cho muttered under his breath. "I thought you were doing this protection detail to have a break from the action."  
"There were other…..factors involved in my decision. I'm not backing out now."

They pulled up and Lisbon wasn't surprised to see Foster's car parked on the curb.  
Cassidy put his arm around Riley's shoulders and Lisbon knew that if she had been able to support herself, she would have flinched away from his touch.

Foster and Jill were sitting anxiously at the table when they got in the door.  
"Oh my god, Riley!" Jill exclaimed putting her hand over her mouth.  
Riley was definitely a sight. Her long hair was mattered, her wrists bandaged and she was still in her hospital gown.  
She looked like a corpse and Lisbon wasn't sure if Riley could ever recover from this.

She asked for Emily again and Jill took her up to Emily's bedroom while Lisbon filled in Cho, Foster and Cassidy. Cassidy provided the gasps of horror as called for as the other two men sat solemnly listening to Lisbon's ordeal.

"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into, Lisbon," Cho said clapping her on the shoulder as he left.  
Foster, Cassidy and Jill all appeared to be staying which Lisbon thought was wise given that Red John's possessiveness of this family had been confirmed.

Lisbon went up the stairs and knocked on Riley's door softly before stepping inside.  
Riley looked slightly better in an overlong tshirt and sweat pants, her hair tied up and Emily laying snugly across her lap with the most serene, peaceful expression lighting up the little girls face.

"Riley," Lisbon walked over to her. "You need to take your insulin."  
She handed her the needle and Riley stared at it, making no move to reach for it.  
"N-no," Riley said weakly. "I cant.."

Lisbon felt a surge of tears well up in her eyes.  
"Riley Jane!" she nearly yelled and Emily winced slightly in her sleep. "I have not just sat through this night watching you nearly die on multiple occasions for you to turn around AND NOT TAKE YOUR FUCKING INSULIN!"

She scrubbed away at her tears as her anger seeped out. How could this silly girl treat her life like nothing? Did she not know what she meant to people? What she meant to Jane? It would kill him (emotionally), if anything happened to her. Riley didn't have to watch the agony in his eyes, Lisbon did.

Lisbon thrust the needle at her again.  
"I mean, I literally cant," Riley said softly glancing down at her wrists.  
"Oh," Lisbon said choking slightly. "I'm so sorry. Let me."

Lisbon injected Riley's insulin and watched as Riley just sat stroking Emily's soft hair.  
"Lisbon?" Riley said just as she was about to leave. "I'm sorry."  
"It isn't your fault," Lisbon told her sternly before shutting the door and going to her own room.

She crawled into bed, making no move to change into her pajamas. The clock told her it was 4am.  
Lisbon could feel Jane's presence but made no move to break the silence.  
"How is she?" Jane asked quietly.

"Scarily fine after having her wrists slashed, almost being chopped up by a psychotic orderly and having Red John come and finish off the night on a high."

Jane didn't say anything for a while.  
"I..I didn't mean for this to happen," he said. "I didn't mean for her to get hurt."

"Well, you should've thought about that before you mocked the bastard," Lisbon said rolling over.  
"I deserved that," Jane sighed.  
"Well, they didn't," Lisbon said angrily. "They've done nothing wrong. They are the most perfect wife and daughter that better men that you would be lucky to have."

"I know."  
Lisbon sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I'm just angry."  
"Me too," Jane told her. "Red John was at Buntings house. He was looking at.."  
"Jane, please," Lisbon begged. "I need to sleep."  
"I'm sorry," Jane said. "Night, Lisbon."  
"Night, Jane."

000

Foster was slightly taken aback when Riley came down the stairs the next morning looking just as radiant as ever.  
"Morning," she said getting out Emily's sippy cup and filling it up with juice.  
"Hey," Foster said slowly.

Riley glanced at the paper he was reading.  
"Serial Killer Gets Taste Of His Own Medicine by Ted Biggs. I cant even get a byline and I'm part of the story."  
"Well, I'm just glad you're not in the obituaries."  
"Or wearing a straightjacket at Northside," Riley joked.

"I'd never let that happen," Foster vowed so sincerely it made Riley's cheeks blush. Foster thought the colour looked lovely on her.

Riley's glowing face turned slightly green and she ran to the bathroom quickly before Foster was greeted by the familiar sound of her vomiting.

She was never going to get over him was she?

**BTW, There is a HUGE, MASSIVE, SHOCK about to rock the Janes and I've left a few hints scattered here and there around chapters so BONUS POINTS TO YOU if any smart cookie can maybe review what they think it is. **


	8. Surprise

**OMG, sorry if this chapters a little loopy, I wrote it in like ten minutes. Hope its alright!**

**Surprise**

Lisbon was an excellent driver. The speedometer was reading the exact speed limit. Not one kilometer over or under. She prided herself on her driving and people who drove her around usually got particularly annoyed with her tendency to remark on every tiny imperfection in their vehicle handling skills.

Dean who was always chattering away into his handset about work (Lisbon hated that. What a distraction from the road!) never let her drive even though she was clearly the more capable driver.

That's why Lisbon was quite pleased that Riley was more than happy to let Lisbon drive them back to their old house. Foster was assured that they would have more of a chance catching Red John if they presented him with an opportunity. Cassidy agreed and said that they could watch the area as he was bound to observe them.

Jane was not pleased with this. Not at all. Lisbon had to listen to him rant and rave, throwing his arms about saying how using them as bait was dangerous and silly and if Lisbon could pretty please shoot Foster in the face.

But Lisbon, who was 'adapting' as Minelli called it, to Foster's way of work complied and was now driving Riley and Emily back home. Emily was almost sick with excitement. Her face was flushed, her eyes wide;

"_Look Mummy! That's my special tree. Do you remember it?"  
"I cant wait to see my old room again!"  
"Mummy, look! That's Mrs Bloomberg's house. She has a new letterbox!"  
"Are we nearly there yet?"  
"How many turns?"  
"How about now?"_

Riley was trying her best to open her mouth as little as possible answering Emily's questions with 'yes, dears' and 'nearly, honeys' or just simple nods.

Riley's face was pale green and she had her head lying against the window. When Lisbon asked, Riley replied that she got carsick. In fact, she got everything sick – seasick, airsick, train sick, carsick, even raft sick (from floating on a raft in a pool) and swing sick (from swinging on a swing). The only time she wasn't sick? When she was walking or riding a bike.

She was the poster girl for motion sickness. Her father, who had never been sick a day in his life and never let her forget it, used to say that it was all psychological and that as soon as she fell for a guy cute enough she wouldn't get sick at all when he was driving her around. But, as she had informed him numerous times, there was not a guy cute enough in the world for this to happen.

"Mummy!" Emily said bouncing in her booster seat clinging onto the straps. "There it is, there's our house. Nothings changed at all."

Riley smiled weakly to herself at her daughters words and thought about just how much their house had in fact changed. It took her back to before Emily was born….

_The sky was a gloomy grey, a bad omen, Riley thought (nauseated) as Patrick drove them through the dark mossy green hills that sometimes showed glimpses of the violent ocean crashing into itself. This would be the thirteenth house they would have looked at this week. Thirteen, another bad omen. Thirteen car trips Riley had to suffer through. _

_Riley was sad at the prospect of moving out of their little apartment. But it was quite small and the ceiling did leak in the winter. It was the first home they had ever had together. It was the first home, Patrick had ever had full-stop._

_Travelling the carnival with his father didn't leave time for settling down. And Riley's father was in the military so he was always gone for prolonged periods of time so it was exciting for her to share a home with somebody else. _

_Neither of them had spoken to their fathers in quite some time. It seemed Patrick's father was never going to forgive him for leaving the carnival for a girl, of all things. And Riley's father (a trained assassin that Patrick was quite terrified of) had said nineteen was way too young to get married. _

_Riley pretended that it was fine, it wasn't like her father and her spoke much to begin with but Patrick knew that she had cried herself to sleep the night before the wedding because her father wouldn't be there to walk her down the aisle. _

_It was Patrick who suggested that they look for a house a few years later when they were 22. So Riley reluctantly hauled out the newspaper real estate section and they sat in their tiny room circling addresses that were in their price range. This one was a rather secluded house in Broken Hill. There was no picture. _

"_Oh dear," Patrick said when they pulled up in front of the house and they gazed at it for a few seconds. Riley's mouth dropped and her blue eyes widened. No wonder there had been no picture. _

_It was a ramshackle two storey house with a sagging roof, blankets hanging in the windows and an overgrown lawn. It looked sad and miserable but if you squinted you could see the beautiful home it used to be. _

"_Too much work," said Patrick thoughtfully drumming his fingers along the steering wheel.  
"Far too much," agreed Riley and they gave each other side long suspicious looks and got out of the car._

_The front door opened and to Riley's horror, an old lady came out into the cold slowly with a walking stick.  
Riley groaned in agony. _

_It broke Riley's heart when she saw the things that people did to sell their house.  
The flowers in vases, the kitchen bench tops streaked with water where they had been vigorously wiped, the scented candles and casually aligned mugs in front of the coffee maker to make it look homey. _

_Patrick would snort cynically when people did these little things. As if that's how they've always lived but Riley was touched by their hopefulness. _

_She hated feeling like they were doing all this just to impress her. And here was this ancient, trembly little lady that had probably gone to all sorts of trouble to impress them. Had she scrubbed the floor for hours on her arthritic knees for their appointment when they probably wouldn't even be buying it._

"_Hello!" Patrick said friendly taking Riley's hand who stood a little behind him.  
Riley was painfully shy and Patrick, who was the opposite, often was her ambassador to the rest of the world. "We're just waiting for the real estate agent."_

_The old lady sniffed. "I might as well show you around the place. I know it better than some slimy old weasel."  
She didn't wait for them to answer and hobbled her way up the path. _

"_She's going to put us in cages and fatten us up before she eats us," Patrick whispered in her ear.  
"Leave a trail of crumbs," Riley whispered back._

_Inside was better and worse than they had expected. The ceilings were high and full of cobwebs. There was a nose tickling smell of damp mildew and neglect, gaping holes in the plaster and fraying carpet. She seated them at a tiny dining table and went to get something. _

_She waved away Riley's desperate offers to help, it was excruciating watching her walk. She finally sat down with a dusty old photo album._

"_This is what the house looked like fifty years ago," she said in her trembly, old voice.  
The photos were small and black and white but you could see the falling apart house had once been beautiful._

"_I should be leaving this house to my children but my son died and I don't speak to my daughter so I'm putting it on the market. I want two hundred thousand for it."  
"The ad said three hundred thousand," Riley told her. Poor dear probably had dementia too. _

"_No, I don't want any more than that," she shook her head.  
"I know I could get a lot more from some investors who would rip it down and build some horrendous modern apartment block but I was hoping that a young couple might buy it and take their time restoring it and bringing back the happy memories. It could be beautiful. Its should be beautiful. Just a bit of spit and polish." _

_Yeah gallons of spit and truckloads of polish. _

_Riley and Patrick were in the car now. Riley broke the silence.  
"So what do you think? Should we forget it? You think we should just forget it don't you?"_

"_You go first. What do you think?" Patrick asked her.  
"No, I want you to go first."  
"Ladies first."  
"Fine, then," Riley muttered and looked out her window. _

_She took a deep breath and looked at the house and imagined fresh paint, a mowed lawn, a toddler running around in circles. It was crazy of course. It would take them years to fix it up. They didn't have the money or the time. They were both working full time and had both agreed to not get anything that needed major renovations._

_Riley turned back to him. "I want it."  
"I want it too."_

Riley was snapped from her thoughts as Emily unbuckled her straps before Lisbon had even parked the car.  
She ran out joyously on to the lawn.  
"Hello street! Hello grass! Hello letterbox! Hello swing!"

Riley walked along the big square stones that lead to the verandah where Emily's paintings where still hanging from pegs. Everything was just as she remembered: The white wooden window frames with glimpses of cream coloured curtains, the pink flower vine climbing frothily up the trellis at the side of the verandah. Emily's bikes and scooters and tea set strewn across the green lawn.

She and Lisbon walked up onto the verandah. It was beautifully cool. There were two cane chairs with blue cushions and a pink Disney Princesses cup sitting on the round table. Lisbon picked it up while Riley fumbled in her pocket for her key. She put her key in the door and took a deep breath.

"_Okay, listen to me because I'm a visionary," Patrick said standing in the musty, dark hallway his hands covering Riley's eyes and he released her. The hallway was musty and dark in the first shell shocked week after they'd moved into the house. _

"_Imagine sunlight flooding through the hallway because of the skylights we'll put here and here. Imagine this wallpaper gone and the walls painted a different colour. This carpet will be floorboards and we'll put a table here with flowers and letters and an umbrella stand here. Imagine photos of our adorable children lined along this hallway – not those horrible portraits shots but real photos of them at the beach or doing kid things." _

_Riley had tried to imagine but she was suffering from a bad cold. Her nose was blocked, she felt dizzy from carsickness and her eyes were watery, and they had two hundred and twelve dollars in their account and half an hour ago they had discovered the house needed a hot water system._  
_"We must have been out of our minds," Riley mumbled as Patrick kissed her head. _

But now it was exactly as he described it.  
The sunlight, the hall table, the floorboards shining gold.  
A funny antique hat stand filled with hats and scarves and beach towels.

Riley walked down the hallway, not stopping, only touching things with a vague caressing fingertip. She glanced briefly at the framed photos, trailing her finger along the frames: a fat baby crawling on hands and knees on the grass gazing huge eyed into the camera, a hospital photo (Riley hated it, she looked terrible), a wedding photo, birthday parties, Christmases….

The hallway lead out to what had been the tiny living room where the old lady had shown them the photos. Their plan had been to knock down three walls in the back area – it was Riley's idea, she had drawn it up on a pizza serviette. So that it would create a huge open space so when they were cooking they could see out into the dining room and the back yard.

"_You're not the only visionary around here!"_

"Nice house," Lisbon said dropping Emily's bag on the coffee table.  
Lisbon sat on the couch and something dug into her leg. She pulled out a tiny, plastic figurine of a fairy. She placed it carefully on the table.

"Are you okay with this?" Lisbon said for the forty-thousandth time. "I mean really? Foster didn't exactly give you much of a choice."  
"I'm fine with it," Riley said putting her own bag next to Emily's and sitting beside Lisbon. "I know he does whatever he thinks is best for us."

_Because he's completely besotted with you, blind woman_! Lisbon thought. It was definitely a fact that Lisbon could use to get Foster thrown off this case but it was so amusing to see him crushing over someone he couldn't possibly ever have. The kid had spirit at least.

"I better go put these upstairs," Riley said picking up the bags. "I'm sure Emily will be here any minute to take you on an intricate tour of her bedroom."  
Lisbon smiled and tried to look as if this were something to be endured but she was actually rather looking forward to all the stories Emily had stored up in this home.

"Oh thank god its you!" Jane said walking into the room. "I was afraid it was.._Foster_."  
He said it with such contempt and distaste it made Lisbon chuckle.  
"He's not that bad you know."  
Jane scoffed. "Sorry but considering how you have a pompous, arrogant jerk as your significant other I find your opinion on the subject to be VOID!"  
"Are you jealous of Foster?"  
Jane snorted. "No. I just want him to stop existing."

Riley was not chuckling. She was hyperventilating.

She stood in the familiar bedroom looking for something – anything – that belonged to Patrick. There was no sign of him. No pile of books or magazines on his beside table. No cylindrical piles of coins taken from his pocket.  
No ties draped over the door handle. Not even a lone crumpled T-shirt or sock.

They were both messy. Their clothes were usually tangled together on the floor in flamboyant embraces.

She went, half ran, to their wardrobe and it was filled with heavy wooden hangers containing just her clothes. The one's she had left behind because she never wore them. Maternity clothes, dresses, Patrick bought her in the home that she would one day wear them, shirts that didn't fit nicely.

She longed to see just one of Patrick's shirts. Even a boring white business shirt.

She would wrap its sleeves around her like his arms and bury her nose in the collar.  
As she closed the cupboard and looked around the room, a feeling of panic exploding in her chest, she realised how clean it was. _Jill!_

That was it. Ben and Jill had eradicated any sign of her husbands existence in their room.

_Their room? Her room! He's dead Riley! Stupid girl! _

She looked down at her wedding ring and touched it, reminding herself that he did exist. Her ring, this house, Emily…they were all proof that this wasn't some dream life she had been living.

She was married to Patrick Jane. Yes. He may not be alive but they were still married. A wave of terror washed through her as a word surfaced to her mind.

Widow.

She was a widow. No. It was wrong. Widows were old and grey and had decades of memories stored up in their muddled up ninety year old minds.

She wasn't old and grey. She was twenty-nine. And she didn't have decades of memories. She had one decade. Not nearly enough time to acquire all the memories she had dreamed about on her wedding day.

Widow.

Riley felt that unpleasant feeling of nausea hit in the stomach. She ran to the bathroom and was violently sick.

Patrick knelt beside her, rubbing circles on her lower back but he knew she couldn't feel him. Riley lied with her head against the tiles, her forehead sweaty as she knew she was going to faint. She was certain other twenty nine year old 'widows' didn't vomit and faint every time they pondered their sadness. This was out of hand.

"Jesus, woman!" Lisbon sighed as she entered the bathroom finding Riley lying on the ground. "Why is it every time I walk into a bathroom you're looking dead on the floor?"

Riley was still in faint-mode, voices fuzzy and lights blurry. She still felt sick. Riley face had felt flushed and hot. Now she felt cold as if she'd stepped in an icy wind.

"Okay," Lisbon said shooing Jane away as she pulled Riley up and sat her against the bathtub. "Cassidy is here to look after Emily, I'm taking you to the doctor and he can pick you up when you've gotten…I don't know, grief pills or anti-sadness lotion. If you keep this up, you're going to end up in hospital."

"Grief pills?" Jane raised his eyebrows at Lisbon.  
Well, saying anti-depressants seemed a little harsh given Riley's opinion on psychotherapy in general.

"But-" Riley started.  
Lisbon held up her hands. "The big blue eyes may have worked on Foster and Cassidy but I'm not taking no for an answer."

Lisbon used her serious, I-will-take-you-by-force voice and as Riley didn't particularly want to be tackled and handcuffed, she found herself sitting in the car five minutes later.

Emily waved from Cassidy's arms on the verandah. Riley waved back half heartedly. Great, more driving.

Lisbon talked to the receptionist as if Riley were a child, incapable of making an appointment herself. She just sat and sulked flipping through magazines from the 70's.  
Lisbon waited until Riley was safely secured in the doctors room where she couldn't sneak out before going home.

000

"You cannot be serious," Riley glared at the doctor.  
"I am," Dr Hastings said pressing his fingers to her stomach once more.

Even though Riley had been pregnant once before, she still wasn't an expert on pregnancy and conception or any part of that. However she did know that it was usually essential to have sex with another person to become pregnant and she had certainly not done that.

What other ways could one become pregnant? Unless she had been stabbed in the stomach with a IVF needle in the middle of the night, she couldn't possibly fathom a solution to this craziness.  
Her favourite theory and the only logical one was that of clinical error.

"There must be a mistake," Riley told Dr Hastings calmly. Mistakes happened all the time. That's why people took three or four pregnancy tests. She remembered when her friends doctor said she was pregnant and then was heartbroken when she found out it was a 'phantom pregnancy'. Whatever that was.

"There's no mistake, Mrs Jane," Dr Hastings said, sure of himself.

Riley exhaled from between her teeth. She was not in the mood with arguing with this deranged man.

"Doctor Hastings," she said calming herself, getting angry tempered wasn't going to get her anywhere. "I know that dizziness, vomiting, fainting, all that, are symptoms of pregnancy. But they are also symptoms of a range of other ailments. "

"Yes they are but I am quite sure of this."

"_Quite sure_?" Riley asked, raising her eyebrows. "Well, there is '_sure'_ and then there is '_quite sure'_. '_Quite sure'_ means that there is definitely the possibility of being wrong, which you kinds of are."

Dr Hastings pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled loudly.

"Mrs Jane, I can understand why having another baby at this time would be difficult for you."  
"I suppose it would be, if there was a chance in hell it was possible for me to be pregnant."

"Why is it such an impossibility for you to be pregnant?" he asked. "Were there complications in your last child's birth that made you infertile?"  
"No," she said.  
"What will it take me to convince you?" Dr Hastings asked.  
"You're the one who needs convincing, doctor."

"Okay," he said. "I'll quickly get your last obstetrician, Dr Rowberry wasn't it?"  
"Yes," she said surly.

"Good morning, Riley," Dr Rowberry said chirpingly a minute later.

"Is it? Is it really, Dr Rowberry?" Her arms were crossed, her bottom lip sticking up ever so slightly.

He laughed. "For me, anyway. Now what's troubling you."  
"I had a low hypoglycemic index and Dr Hastings, a nice man however probably doesn't know one end of a stethoscope to the other, is trying to misdiagnose me."  
"For what?"  
"Pregnancy of all things."  
"Pregnancy?"

"Yes, pregnancy, Mr Obstetrician," she said rolling her eyes. "It is when a child is conceived and grows in a woman's womb for a nine month period until-"  
"Yes, I am quite aware of the process. Now, why were you brought in?"

"Agent Lisbon, a complete hypochondriac, brought me here because I wasn't feeling well."  
"You weren't feeling well?" Dr Rowberry said taking her blood pressure. "Could you elaborate on your symptoms."

"Just vomiting and dizziness and then I fainted," Riley said like reciting a shopping list. "All common for diabetic people."  
"And pregnant people."  
"And diabetic people," she repeated.

"Well, it seems your blood sugar level and pressure are quite normal," Dr Rowberry said. "Have you been taking your insulin."

"No, I haven't Dr Rowberry, that's why I'm dead," she said sarcastically.  
"Hmm, okay," Dr Rowberry said. "Let me just take a blood sample and then we can tell Dr Hastings of his mistake."  
"Okay," Riley said. Good old Dr Rowberry.

Thirteen years of having to inject herself with insulin twice a daily and she still could not get used to needles.  
Needles and blood. It was like a party.

"There we go," Dr Rowberry said holding up the vile of dark red blood.  
Riley felt her stomach turn and was pretty sure that Dr Rowberry's nice white doctors coat was going to become multicolored very soon – not that he didn't deserve it.

"Oh, sorry," he said suddenly covering the vile in his fist. "I forgot."  
Liar, Riley thought.  
"I'll go find out whats going on."

Riley was lying on the bed feeling annoyed when he reappeared looking frightened of her.  
"What's wrong?" she asked quickly thinking of cancer and tumours and liver diseases. Emily was going to be orphan, wasn't she?

"I'm afraid Dr Hastings assumption was….correct…..according to your blood results."  
"Dr Rowberry," she said through gritted teeth. "I…am….not…pregnant!"  
"You are, my dear. Just over four months."

Four months? She starting laughing with relief. Now, there must've been a mistake. With Emily, her stomach was the size of the moon at four months. Now, she had a perfectly flat stomach. Silly Dr Rowberry.

"Mrs Jane, are you okay?" he said now worried for her sanity.

"I'm fine now," she said smiling. "Four months? Yeah, I wish it were possible to look like this at four months." She lifted her shirt to show him her completely flat, un-pregnant stomach.

"Some women, especially after their first pregnancy, don't start showing till six or seven months."

"Think Riley," Dr Rowberry said putting his hands on her shoulders. "Is there no possible way that you're pregnant."

"Just over four months?" Riley asked again to clarify. He nodded.

Time had meant nothing since her husband had died. Each day passed painfully slow, fading into the next with deliberate slowness. She couldn't even remember what day of the week it was. She had to think twice about the month as well.

The problem was that she couldn't attach herself to a 'today' or a 'yesterday' or even a 'last week'. She was floating helplessly above the calendar like an escaped balloon.

Dr Hastings wall calendar informed her in was April, somewhere in the middle, she guessed.

Time was so hard to grasp. It was Tuesday, today. No, Wednesday. Sunday? It didn't matter. Time didn't matter to Riley, that much. Time didn't exist since last January when her husband had died.  
Now it was April, had time really gone that slow? It had only been three months – it had felt like three hundred years to Riley.

Wait, three months?  
February, March, April.  
February, March, April.

One, Two, Three.  
Three months.

Yes, that was right, three months. She felt sad.  
What was she doing again?  
Oh yes, the whole pregnancy thing.

Okay, so April…four months ago was….January.  
January.

Three months. Four months. Three months. Four months.  
January. February. January. February.

Wait, Dr Rowberry said she was four months pregnant.

She had just thought her husband was killed three months ago.

Pregnant in January.  
Died in February.  
Pregnant in January.  
Died in February.

That made no sense. Because it made sense. That meant-

"Mrs Jane?" Dr Rowberry said concerned waving a hand in front of her blood drained face. "Riley?"  
"Are you okay?"  
No.  
"Riley, are you okay?"  
No.

"Can you answer me, Riley?"  
Yes, she had been. Oh, wait. He couldn't hear inside her head.

"Yes," she said out loud. "No….I don't know."

But all she could hear in her head was:  
_I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant._


	9. Comfort

**Hey everybody. I am super excited about Season 3 in September! They're casting for Jane's "charming and captivating" brother-in-law and I was just wondering out of idle curiousity who you guys would cast? I have loads of actors I'd love to see on the Mentalist. I have no Mentalist fans in my household so its difficult to have these conversations. Anyway, on with the story…..**

**COMFORT**

"Turn the television off!" Cassidy said for the thousandth time, pounding at Riley's door.  
"No!" Riley yelled back again, pulling the quilt around her.  
"Ry," Cassidy groaned. "You can't stay in there forever."  
He was concerned. Riley never watched T.V but she had been shut up in her bedroom since yesterday afternoon when he had brought her home.

He came in and had turned it off himself a while ago and as soon as he did, she screamed over and over as if he was hurting her.  
A tiny bit dramatic. She would feel embarrassed about it later.

But it did hurt her. That loud, awful buzzing silence that the T.V left was actually painful to her eardrums.  
Cassidy was probably worried the neighbours would call the police.  
After all, he did look exactly like the sort of man you would expect to see dragged away in handcuffs for domestic violence. So he turned it back on.

She was watching Oprah now. She was talking about an exciting skin detox. The audience was excited. She was excited. She might try it. She started taking notes.

000

Lisbon was sitting alone in a restaurant picking morosely at her salad which she was dissecting more than eating.  
She was feeling oddly lonely. Usually loneliness was a feeling that wasn't at all odd to her. She lived by herself, had no friendships to speak of and her 'relationship' was more of a business arrangement and she was just another appointment penciled into a schedule throughout the week.

However the past week with the Janes, Lisbon was always surrounded by people. Riley, Cassidy, Emily, Foster, Jill….  
It was utter chaos and turmoil but lonely it was not. Sometimes she went home and just collapsed on her bed fully dressed only to discover that Jane was in the mood for a midnight chat.

This week of protection detail was more exhausting than all the assignments she had done in her entire career put together. She didn't even have the energy to be pissed that Dean had blown her off _again_.

Her phone vibrated on the table, snapping her out of her sleepy stupor. She looked at the caller I.D and was mystified to discover that it was her own home phone line.

"Hello?" she said rubbing her forehead.  
"Why aren't you happy to her from me?" a voice demanded. "Who are you with? Why are you being quiet? Oh my God, you're on a date."  
Lisbon sighed. "No Jane, I'm in a restaurant."  
"You're on a date at a restaurant! Are you with the boy scout? Good lord how did you manage to squeeze his head through the doors?"  
"I'm not with _Dean_, actually. I'm just grabbing lunch. Why are you at my house?"  
"Looking for you actually."  
"And where were you last night?"  
"Um, following up on a lead."  
"You mean following Foster."  
"He's a lead." 

Lisbon scoffed. "Of course, how could I have missed that! Because he's soft on Riley that must mean he's a serial killer, psychopath or criminal."  
"Not _just_ because of that."  
"Yeah, yeah," she said rolling her eyes. "Listen, I'll be there soon so make yourself comfy and prepare your _101 Reasons Why Foster Is A Sociopath _speech for me, okay? I expect it to be riveting."  
"Just because you got stood up by the boy scout, doesn't mean you have to be so-"  
Lisbon snapped her phone shut and as soon as she did it vibrated in her hand again.  
She didn't even bother to check the I.D, just assuming Jane was calling back to finish his take on her boyfriend.

"What now?" she barked into the phone.  
"Lisbon?"  
She froze, totally embarrassed.

It was Cassidy. His voice was deep and slow like he was calling from the outback. He didn't talk much and only when necessary. He was like a big, bumbling chimp. Socially awkward and slightly adorable.

He said that Riley was sitting in bed watching television for the last twenty four hours and started screaming if he tried to turn it off and he wasn't sure how long he should let this go on for.

"What happened?" Lisbon snarled. "Did the doctor give her some funny medicine or something?"  
She was worried and concerned but also felt sort of touched that she was the one Cassidy thought of to call when Riley was in need of comfort. She must be doing something right.  
"Is she still sick?"  
"No," Cassidy said, unsurely. "Well, yes. She's pregnant."

000

Riley could hear him in the next room calling Lisbon. She made him promise not to tell anyone she was pregnant. She knew he would. Liar.

No one had any idea the fury she felt. Against him. His mother. Her mother. Lisbon. Foster. Patrick. Jill.  
She hated them all. For no particular reason.

Lisbon drove over to Riley's place straight away. Riley was pregnant. How was she supposed to react? Sad and morose or congratulatory and cheery? Should she bring balloons or was this more of a funeral procession. Damn, she should have brought Riley flowers or a teddy bear or something. She knew nothing about pregnancy etiquette.

She would have to think of something to say to Jane as to why she hadn't gone home. Jane! Was it her place to tell Jane of his pending fatherhood? Of course it wasn't her place but it was her responsibility given she was the only one who could see him.

Or maybe she could let him find out on his own, walk in on a conversation or maybe notice when Riley's stomach starts getting huge. _"Oh yeah," she could imagine herself saying while slapping her forehead. "I forgot to tell you, Riley's pregnant with your child. Sorry, must've slipped my mind!"_

Lisbon turned into the driveway next to Cassidy's car. Thank god it was Cassidy and not Foster. A small smile lingered at the edge of her lips at the thought of Foster' face when he found out Riley was pregnant.  
_Sorry, mate. Game over!_

She could hear the faint clamour of television as soon as Cassidy opened the door. For such a big, bear-like man, he looked especially frightened and vulnerable. He fidgeted with his fingers like a toddler who had just had a nightmare.

"She wants it up really loud," he told her. "Be ready, if you try and turn it off she sounds like a trapped animal. Its freaking me out. I don't know if she even slept at all."

Lisbon nodded and walked past the living room where she saw Emily out in the backyard making a mud pies.  
She was on her knees, a look of avid determination on her face as she squelched her hands into the brown sludge. Her hair, face and overalls were covered in mud but the look on her face was priceless. There was a dent between her eyebrows and her tongue was poking out slightly in concentration like she was performing heart surgery.

She smiled briefly at the little girl before going up the stairs and put her hand on the doorknob that went to Riley's room. Lisbon took a deep breath and went inside. The room was filled with the noise of canned laughter.

Riley was sitting up in bed with the remote in one hand and an exercise book and pen resting in her lap.  
She was still wearing the same outfit as when Lisbon had dropped her off at the doctors except her hair was a tangled mess and the mascara that Lisbon had forced on her eyelashes before they went to the doctors in order to humanise her had smudged so she had black shadows under her eyes.

Lisbon didn't say anything, she just kicked off her heels and hopped into bed beside Riley, pulling the covers up and putting a pillow behind her back.

Cassidy hovered uncertainly by the door.  
"Okay," he said awkwardly. "I'll be down with Emily."  
"Okay," Lisbon smiled at him.

She peeked at Riley who made no notice of acknowledging her presence.

Lisbon stayed silent. She couldn't think of the right thing to say. Maybe just being there would be enough.  
An old episode of _I Love Lucy _was on the television. Lisbon watched the happy smiling black-and-white characters and peals of canned laughter but didn't take any of it in.

"Don't you have things to do?" Riley said eventually a tad sour, her voice delirious with sleep deprivation.  
"Nothing more important than this," Lisbon told her.

Riley winced and pulled at the blanket so it came away from Lisbon's legs, Lisbon pulled it back over herself.  
She could be as stubborn as she wanted, Lisbon wasn't going anywhere.  
Riley gave up and switched it to a cooking show.

"_The secret is using unsalted butter_," the presenter said enthusiastically drizzling yellow liquid into a pan.  
Lisbon peeked at Riley who was watching intently with the somber, concentrated expression of someone watching a particularly horrifying terrorist attack report on the news.

"_Make sure to use oven bags to avoid splatters." _

"It….would be due in September," Riley said quietly. "If it-" Her voice trailed off.  
"Well, that seems like a good time to have a baby," Lisbon said encouragingly. "It wouldn't be too cold when you got up in the night to feed it."

Riley didn't say anything but she had a pained expression on her face and she clenched the blanket with her fingers and her eyebrows knitted together.

"I feel really angry. I cant tell you how angry I feel."

"Okay," Lisbon said and they fell into silence again.

"_Make sure to keep these leftover juices as we're going to use them in our gravy that we prepare shortly.." _

"You're allowed to be angry," Lisbon said finally. "You have a lot to worry about."

Riley fidgeted with the hem of the blanket she had stopped trying to palpitate. "I'm not meant to worry because stress is bad for babies but how can I _not_ worry?"  
"You could delegate the worrying to me," Lisbon suggested. "I could worry all day long. I'm an excellent worrier, you know that!"

Riley looked like she was about to smile but then frowned as if she had a toothache.  
They watched the T.V presenter instruct the precise method of dicing carrot.

"I can't look after this baby," Riley so quietly, it was like she was talking to herself. Her voice was full of shame and self-loathing for saying it.  
Lisbon put a hand on the spot of blanket that covered Riley's stomach.

"I can't look after this baby," Riley said again and this time it sounded like something was lodged deep in her throat and she was struggling to get words past it.

Lisbon leaned down. "Come on little one. You're going to be a good baby won't you? You're mum has been through so much for you."

Riley picked up the remote, turned off the television and began to cry.

000

"Patrick?"

Riley sat bolt upright, her heart racing, her breath shallow. She felt about the bed with her hand for Patrick, to wake him and tell him about the nightmare. Normally he woke up immediately when she had a nightmare, his voice muffled with sleep, automatically soothing her. "It's okay, it's just a dream, just a bad dream."  
Part of her mind would always think – "He's going to make such a great father."

She patted at the sheets. He must have gone to get a glass of water. Or had he not come to bed yet?

_You really are stupid, aren't you? He's dead, you silly girl! You're pregnant with your dead husbands baby. Remember?_

She looked around the room and saw that it was dark, Lisbon must've closed her curtains. She couldn't even remember falling asleep.

Riley got out of bed for the first time that day, taking her hairbrush out of the drawer and walked into the bathroom, flipping on the light.

She knew she looked terrible but the lighting in the bathroom, clearly designed to be flattering, made her look better than she knew she actually did which was unsettling. Mirrors, if nothing else, were supposed to be honest.

She chose to turn the light off and brush her hair in the dark instead and splashed some cold water on her face.  
Riley looked at her shadowed reflection and didn't like what she saw. A different Riley Jane looked back at her and she hated it. Her skin was usually a pretty pale ivory but now it was sallow and pallid. It looked even worse in the darkness where she looked ghostly pale like a corpse.

She backed into the wall and slid down on to the cold bathroom tiles, hugging her knees in close.

Riley traced her fingertips along the grouting of the tiles (She and Patrick had done a tiling course in preparation for this job) and wondered how she could go downstairs looking composed and unfazed by her situation after that embarrassing display of distress that Cassidy and Lisbon had witnessed.

Looking less corpse-like would be a help. At least her face was washed and her hair was brushed. She changed into jeans and a blue shirt and just let her hair fall into their usual curls down to her waist. There.  
Feeling less like Morticia Addams, she walked into the hallway and down the stairs.

She held on to the railing and looked down so her hair could cover either side of her face. It made her feel less visible.

She could hear a congregation of people gathered at the foot of the stairs and peeked out between tresses of hair to see if it was too late to run back upstairs. Riley's foot slipped on the edge of a stair and she had to balance herself with one hand on the railing when she saw who was down there.

"Oh well look at you," Alex Jane beamed like Riley had done something precious just by existing. "Riley, my dear! I was just coming to collect you!"  
"How are you, Alex?" said Riley, horrified to see her father-in-law at the bottom of the stairs. He was all out of context without Patrick. He was a visitor you planned for (steeled yourself for) not someone looking comfortably up at you from the bottom of your stairs as if he belonged in your house.

"I'm fighting fit!" Alex said cheerful with his hands in his pockets. "Its you that were all worried about."  
Goodness, had Ben put an announcement in the paper?

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Alex took Riley by the elbow and led her into the living room, his fingertips solicitously pressed to the small of her back like she was terminally ill and required assistance with the task of mobility.

Her relationship with her father-in-law was complicated. Alex never blamed Riley for Patrick running away. In fact, he had always adored Riley and despite resenting his son for choosing her over the carnival, never held that against her.

Patrick's annoyance towards his father grew when they heard he had remarried. Riley understood because Patrick had adored his mother, Olivia. So Emily's birthday parties had been quite awkward with Patrick greeting Alex and Michelle like strangers rather than his own family.

Riley always made the effort though. At least, his father had wanted to make up with him.

As soon as Alex helped her into a chair, a large bunch of yellow tulips were ceremoniously shoved in her face dusting her with pollen. She sneezed into her hand and at the same time there was a small jump, like a hiccup in her stomach. Riley's eyes widened and her hand flew to her midriff involuntary. She was quite unprepared for that.

The woman holding the flowers was her stepmother-in-law, Michelle. Her lips were the same burgundy shade as her hair which had two strands pinned back so that her pixie ears stuck out comically and a jaunty tropical silk flower was perched on her head. Her foundation was thick and dark, her eyelids painted purple and…. surely not, Riley thought, false eyelashes?

"Hello sweetheart," Michelle said in her loud, overbearing voice, patting Riley's knee so that her sparkly bracelets slid up and down her arm. "You look as white as a sheet. Don't you think darl?"  
_Darl_. Michelle had just called Alex darl.

"I bought some prenatal vitamins from the chemist on our way over here," Michelle said slapping her arms against her thighs and standing up. "I'll go get them for you."  
As Michelle turned to go back towards the kitchen, Alex gave her a playful, not-at-all-discreet slap on the bottom.  
Appalled, Riley averted her eyes. (Alex, she remembered, owned a water-bed. 'The ladies love it,' he'd told her once)

"Riley?" Lisbon said concerned, obviously mistakening her nauseated expression for actual nausea. "Do you want a painkiller? A cup of tea?"  
"Or a drink?" Alex said furrowing his brow. "A brandy?"  
Michelle clucked her tongue loudly and rolled her eyes as she came back in with the small pink bottle of pills. "She's _pregnant_, Alex!"

There. It had been said out loud. Thrown out there. Making it completely real.  
Riley felt ashamed as her eyes stung and her throat became tighter. She had been certain she had no tears left in her.

"Oh _darling_," Michelle said patting Riley's shoulder while Alex's face contorted into a horrendously mournful expression that was presumably meant to convey sympathy.

"Mummy?" a little voice said from the doorway full of concern. Emily was appraising the situation in front of her with wide blue eyes. There were splashes of dirt across her face and overalls and her shoes had left little muddy footprints across the floorboards. Her nose was scrunched up and she had her head tipped slightly sideways so one of her pigtails brushed against her mud-splattered cheek.

You're so beautiful, Riley thought, the sheer amazement of her knocking the breath out of her.  
Emily kicked off her muddy sneakers and walked over to her mother hoisting herself on to her lap. She laid her head against her mothers chest and listened to her heartbeat that made her feel completely safe.

Riley cradled the small muddy girl in her arms while the adults chattered amongst themselves. And for once she didn't care. She didn't care that she was pregnant. She didn't care that she was murderously angry at Cassidy. She didn't care that Emily was getting mud all over her and she would probably have to mop the floor tonight.

Lisbon was casually drifting in and out of the conversation between Alex, Cassidy and Michelle and pretending to read the instructions on the prenatal vitamins when really she was watching Riley and Emily chatter away. She wondered if one day she would ever be able to do that. Cradle her beautiful child in her arms and be able to have that look of love and adoration in her eyes.

Suddenly Riley sat up straight and unraveled her arms from around Emily and put her hand to her mouth and the to her stomach. Lisbon quickly took Emily from her lap and sat her on her own knee while Riley ran to the sink and was sick.

When she had finished (finally), Riley rinsed her mouth out with tap water and opened the kitchen window to let the cool breeze dance across her sweaty face. She noticed something strange. A smiling teddy bear was perched on the widow sill outside. She reached out and took it. It wasn't Emily's, she didn't recognise it at all.

There was a small gift card attacked to the bear's ribbon. She opened the envelope and read the tiny cardboard card which was decorated with pictures of cartoon babies and rattles. Her hands began to shake as her eyes moved over every word. A murderous haze of rage blinded her eyes and she was hard pressed not to tear up the tiny card into confetti. She let it slip from her fingers and she backed against the wall her eyes not moving from the offending gift.

"Lisbon?" Jane said coming through the door. He was miffed that he had prepared a fantastic monologue about Foster not to mention a few cracks at that Dean only to have Lisbon not show up. He had fidgeted, prodded through her things, fidgeted some more. Who knew that the afterlife could be this boring?

He stopped when he saw his father and his new wife talking to Cassidy in his living room. Lisbon was chatting away to Emily who was covered in mud and perched on her knee.

Lisbon glanced up and her smile vanished when she saw Jane standing there looking bewildered.  
"How about you go talk to Grandpa, okay sweetie?" Lisbon said taking Emily off of her knee and walked out to yard with Jane following.

"What the hell is going on?" Jane said, his green eyes wide with confusion. He hated being confused.  
"Well.." Lisbon said. "We found out what's making Riley sick."

Jane's eyes widened. Was Riley really sick? Like deathly ill? Was that why his father was here? All this time he had been worried about Red John, he hadn't even considered the fact that something as commonplace as an illness could hurt his girls.

Lisbon could see the wild assumptions forming in his eyes and wondered if the truth was better or worse than what he was thinking.

"Riley's pregnant," she said quickly as if hearing if faster would make it easier.  
Jane looked at her. "No, she isn't. I've been around her all the time, I'd know if she was seeing anyone."

"No, she was pregnant before you died," Lisbon explained. "A month before."  
"Okay, that makes…sense, I guess" he said slowly and Lisbon could see the shock settling in. "Is this….good?"  
"I suppose so," Lisbon said wondering if ghosts could faint. "Do you think its good?"

"I'm…not…sure," he said frowning. "Is she….happy?"

Lisbon bit her lip and Jane guessed the answer.  
"I..just…" Jane said unsure what to say. Lisbon had never seen him struggle with words before. "I'm…I'm just going for a walk…I'll see you….I don't…"

He didn't finish what he was saying and he waked off staring at his hands.

Lisbon sighed and leaned her head against the tree wondering how may more bombshells she could take.  
Apparently, the universe believed one more was required just the end the day with a bang.

"Lisbon?" Cassidy's gruff voice said behind her. She spun around running her fingers through her hair. "There's something you should see."


	10. Bittersweet

**Sorry, its taken so long to update. This chapters kind of….pointless, it doesn't even really need to exist but it has some monologues but I will get back into the swing of drama and banter next chapter. Reviews are loved!**

**BITTERSWEET**

"….so as you can see it was a mistake and I promise that it wont happen again for as long as I'm working for your team."

Foster appraised the young, scrawny agent with his dark, brooding eyes.  
"Thank you Henry," he said finally. "That was a heartfelt, if not interminably long winded apology. And I'm going to help you keep that promise. I will have Minelli place you elsewhere."

"Are you taking me off the case?" the agent asked, confused.  
Foster smiled. "Never loose that grasp of the obvious, Agent Blye. It's one of your strongest attributes."

Agent Blye stood shocked before taking off from the room quickly, wishing a void would open him up and swallow him whole.

"That's the fourth one you've devoured this fortnight," Cassidy said leaning against the doorway in his lab coat.  
"I don't know where Minelli find's these people," Foster said collapsing into his desk chair. "I tell him that Red John is definitely watching the Janes and what does he send me? A work experience student whose too preoccupied writing sonnets than keeping watch."

"Don't you think you might be a tad harsh?" Cassidy said. "He's only starting out and it is Red John after all."  
"Exactly," Foster said darkly. "Somehow with double the amount of resources we had before, Red John was able to stride across the backyard in broad daylight. Do I have to wait for one of them to be gutted open before anyone takes me seriously?"

"Foster," Cassidy said sternly. "That would never happen."  
"Well, with the idiots we've got Red John could turn up on the doorstep spattered with gore and still convince them that he's the freaking maid."  
"No matter what idiots we get put with, there will always be me, you or Lisbon there."  
"Lisbon," he laughed. "Oh yeah, the one who was boiling the kettle while Riley was getting sliced up in the next room by some random psycho who wasn't even Red John…"

"It's not Lisbon's fault that Riley is a magnet for psychopaths," Cassidy said. "You're not the only one who cares about them you know."  
"No, I'm just the only one whose trying to protect them properly."

Cassidy sighed. "Listen, maybe we should all sit down and discuss it, okay? Obviously you, me and Lisbon aren't on the same page. Does Lisbon even know about the extra security that's been assigned?"  
"No," Foster said. "I haven't been able to get her without Riley."  
"Wait," Cassidy stopped him. "You mean you haven't even told Riley."

"Are you insane?" Foster enquired. "Riley's pissed enough as it is having us three hovering around all the time, if she knew there were agents hiding behind bushes and trees day and night…And besides, we don't need to worry her anymore than she already is."

"Yeah, it cant be healthy considering," Cassidy said thoughtfully.  
"Considering what?" Foster asked.  
"What?" Cassidy said snapping out of his reverie.  
"You said it cant be healthy considering. Considering what?"  
"Oh, just, um…Lisbon took, well forced her to go to the doctor. I think she was feeling sick."  
"She didn't tell me, I'll give her a call in a minute. Is she okay now?"  
"Errr, I don't think its anything life-threatening but no doubt this Red John thing has shook her up."  
"Yes. Speaking of that, did you manage to get any prints off what he left?"  
"No, nothing," Cassidy sighed.

"What did he leave anyway? That Lisbon was quite evasive."  
"Oh, just a toy bear and…a note."  
"I suppose the bear is some reference to Emily, to worry Riley. What did the note say?"  
"Oh, I didn't really….Weren't you going to call Riley?"

000

It was an unusually warm night for this time of year and for the first time since the Janes had moved back home, Emily's window was open, letting warm Californian air blow her curtains to and fro like a ghost in the moonlight.  
Little did the tiny girl know, there was an actual ghost in her room though not nearly as frightening and scary as her imagination led her to believe.

She slept restlessly tonight but at least she had fallen asleep straight away. Her mummy had let her stay up later than she normally would have allowed. Emily had felt so grown up sitting on her mothers lap with all the grown-ups when it was past her bedtime. Riley hadn't let Emily go and she didn't mind in the slightest. Cassidy hadn't let her go upstairs when her mum was 'sick' in bed last night and all this morning and Emily was determined to make up for that lost time.

Cassidy left. She fought to keep her eyelids open as they became heavier and heavier and the grown-ups conversations got boringer and boringer.

"I think someone's tired," Lisbon commented brushing her finger across Emily's palm.  
"Not tired," Emily yawned snuggling closer to her mother. "Stay up more."  
Her eyes kept closing, staying closed for longer and longer amounts of time until they didn't re-open and she started breathing deeply through parted lips.

Riley carried Emily up to her room and gently set her on the bed and removed her muddy shoes and clothes.  
"Lift up sweetie," Riley said and Emily sleepily lifted her arms so she could slip on the cotton pajama top and button it up. She put a blanket over Emily and put her tattered teddy bear, Ringo next to her.

"No Mama!" Emily protested sleepily as Riley pried her tiny fingers from her shirt but as soon as her arms fell by her sides, she was asleep. Riley kissed Emily's forehead softly, realising how warm she was. She walked across the room, tripping over Emily's dollhouse, and nearly fell into the window sill before opening it, letting the fresh air dance across Emily's room.

It was nearly midnight and Patrick watched his daughter intently. She was sprawled out on her stomach across her mattress in a tangle of limbs and blonde curls. She had done a complete 180 in her sleep so her head was now at the end of her bed and her ankles were resting on her pillow. Poor Ringo was squashed under her tummy.

Emily loved sleep and god help you if you came between her and her sleep! But she had always been a fussy, restless sleeper. Emily learned early in life as a baby that crying got her nowhere. Patrick remembered how the pediatrician had told the young parents that they must not pick her up every time she cried otherwise she would develop an unhealthy pattern.

Patrick didn't like that at all. How could it be 'healthy' to lay in bed and listen to his precious little baby wail helplessly. The doctor said that baby's often cried for no reason. But what if there was a reason? What is she had a tummy ache? What if she had a nightmare? Did babies even get tummy aches and nightmares?

This resulted in Riley having to literally wrestle him in the hallway on occasion to stop him from going into the nursery and scooping her up every time she made a sad little noise. Riley swore that every time she gave her daddy sad eyes and trembling lips so he would scoop her up and lean her across his shoulder so her little face was looking behind him at Riley, that she would give Riley an evil 'mwa ha ha' smirk.

So crying worked with daddy and she soon discovered the perfect way to torture her mummy. She learned the best way to get her mothers attention was to hold her breath. Surely enough, Riley would burst into the room, dazed from being half asleep with the baby monitor in her hand and would frantically grasp the small baby to see if she was breathing. Emily would seize her moment by latching on to her mothers shirt and Riley would be too relieved to be annoyed.

Patrick watched as the breeze blew Emily's hair across her face. Her hands were folded under her cheek and she frowned in her sleep and blew the hair back off her face. Her little leg was hanging out of the bed and Patrick knew it was because she was hot but she could never get to sleep with something covering her so she compromised by letting her leg dangle out of the sheets.

He could hear the _clop, clop, clop_ of Lisbon's shoes pacing the hallway. She was sick with worry, her ear pressed to her mobile. Riley had disappeared pretty much as soon as Emily had fallen asleep and everyone had left. He wasn't nearly as worried as Lisbon was. There were two reasons for this. For one, Riley hated driving and it made her feel sick therefore she wouldn't have gone far. Secondly, he knew where she had gone.

There were also two reasons why he hadn't put Lisbon out of her misery and told her where Riley had gone.  
If Riley didn't want to be found, she wouldn't be. He had learned this when she had started working for the FBI Forensics team. He would pick her up when she was finished and sometimes she would have the most devastated expression on her face and tears would be in her eyes that had been contained all day where she had worked at horrific crime scenes and her faith in humanity would be shattered after learning the monstrosity of what people did to one another.

Jane hated seeing her like this because he couldn't stand to see her in such a state and have no way to delete those images from her head. She was so clever and could've become a fantastic surgeon at any hospital in the world but he knew that would be an impossibility as the day would come when she lost a patient and she would find a way to trace their death back to her own actions and blame herself as she so frequently did.  
Unfortunately, this job also brought sadness to her and sometimes she allowed him to comfort her but other times she just wanted to be left alone.

Thankfully this ended with the arrival of Emily. It seemed that for Riley, Emily's existence was so good that it balanced out all the evil and the world didn't seem like such a dark place anymore.

The other reason that he didn't want Lisbon to know was because of his own selfish reasons. To be honest, he didn't want to see his wife right now. Lisbon's face was an open book and it was easy for him to read that Riley wasn't particularly thrilled with these piece of unexpected news. Nor should she given that she had barely coped the first time with her pregnancy and at least then he was there to help her. Who would help her now?

Jane was certain that Lisbon, who had come to realize as quite a remarkable human being would definitely be capable of providing Riley with all the comfort she required. Ben Cassidy was no therapist, in fact the suicide rate would most probably double if he ever took up psychotherapy with his blunt, awkward and bumbling manner.  
But he was a good man, a good friend and Jane was sure that just his presence would be enough.  
Foster….well, Foster wasn't going to abandon Riley anytime soon. He would be no loss to Jane.

And Jane himself? It anguished him that he wouldn't do or say anything to comfort or protect his family like he should be and it was frustrating that he had caused so much damage and couldn't do anything to repair it. But he would stay, he would help the best he possibly could. He could help Lisbon at least. He needed to find Red John…help find Red John so his family would be safe.

Then what? Jane thought about that question every day. What happened when Red John was dead or behind bars and his family was safe? The thought overjoyed him but saddened him as well. Lisbon, Foster and Cassidy would no longer be required and probably go about living their own lives, moving on to another case.

He wondered what would happen to him. Surely, his purpose would then be fulfilled and he would move onto…what? Heaven? Hell? If such places existed. Probably nothingness. Black blank empty nothingness. It pained him, a big aching hole in his chest throbbing when he thought that when the time came, he would never see Riley and Emily again.

His arrogance and recklessness had left a huge mess behind him and now his family were left to deal with the consequences of his actions. It wasn't fair. Even if Red John was caught and brought to justice, they would still continue to be punished. Emily, his darling sweet little Emily who had been exposed to the evil in world so much earlier than a child should be. Riley, who hadn't smiled in weeks would be left alone to raise Emily and the b..  
He couldn't even think the word 'baby'.

If Jane were alive, he would have been ecstatic and filled with joy at the idea but now he was terrified of becoming attached and then suddenly being sucked into nothingness. Sometimes he forgot he was dead. He wasn't going to be a father. He would never 'meet' his child. He didn't exist. He was buried six feet under the ground. And besides, it just meant something else that Red John could take away. Another life that could be extinguished thanks to his stupidity.

Jane twirled his finger around a strand of his little girls hair which he noticed had grown a few centremetres. A pang of sadness hit as he thought of all the things he would miss out on in his baby girls life. Walking her to her first day of school, helping with her homework, going to her ballet recitals, high school, teaching her how to drive, his anxiety when she started dating, being murderously angry and hugging her tightly when her heart got broken, holding her hair back when she suffered her first hangover, staying up watching the clock on the night of her prom, bursting with pride at her graduation, college, moving out, having a career, marriage, children of her own…

Jane stopped the carousel in his mind and returned to the present where his daughter was four years old and boys still had 'germs'.  
It was heartbreaking to know that he would never be able to experience all those milestones in her life but in the end, all that truly mattered was that she got to experience those milestones.

He would never be able to see his precious family again but they would be safe.  
His family would be broken and alone but alive.

The capture of Red John would be bittersweet. 

000

Riley was sitting in the car crying and feeling sick. It wasn't a good combination. The sea salty tears mixed with the swirly stomach sensation which was caused by driving or….the other health issue. The crying by itself felt good though. She was physically alone for the first time in ages. Mentally, she had been by herself for a long time.

She was always surrounded by Lisbon, Foster, Cassidy or some neighbor 'checking in' or an FBI agent 'just getting more details'.

And the questions. Oh, the questions never ended.

_And approximately what time did the ambulance arrive?  
You look pale, have you been drinking enough?  
You're sure you saw no one at the scene? Nothing suspicious?  
Mummy, why doesn't the ocean overflow when it rains? Is there a plug?  
How are you coping, dear? Natalie sends her love.  
Sorry, it's procedure. Just a few more questions ma'am.  
Riley, is the washing machine supposed to make that noise?  
When is Daddy coming home, Mummy?  
And when you came out what did you see?  
Mummy, how…  
Why did…  
Who..  
What..  
When was.._

Riley put her hands over her ears to stop their voices and pulled her knees up close to herself.  
She was at the cemetery, she had been there before to see her husband but it was difficult when Lisbon, Cassidy and Foster practically shackled her to the wall nowadays. Technically, she was still in her car and didn't know whether she was capable of getting out or even driving home.

She was terrified of going back. She felt like an infectious cancer spreading danger everywhere around her. It was obvious that Red John very much wanted to kill her. Riley wasn't too scared about that. Emily was pretty much the only thing tying her to this earth. So Red John wanted to kill her although he didn't when he was presented with the perfect opportunity. She was already tied to a chair for goodness sake but maybe that wasn't elaborate enough for him and her termination from this planet required further planning.

But Emily had been there. And Ben. Lisbon. Alex. Michelle.  
They were all in danger simply by being around her.  
Red John had been outside where Emily was playing, for goodness sake.  
It made Riley's already sick stomach turn to think of Red John being so close to her little girl.

She should run away from Broken Hill. Far away from everyone who she loved so Red John and any other psychopaths intent on murdering her could follow and she could lead them away from Emily and the others. But that wouldn't work. She couldn't possibly destroy Emily by taking away her only remaining parent.

Somedays she considered running away with her daughter. Dying Emily's hair brown, driving until the car broke down and living in a caravan by the sea, where they would both become nut brown and live on coconuts and fresh fruit and she could home school her and…

Riley leaned her head against the car window and breathed deeply. She couldn't run away from the problem. The problem was inside of her. Attached to her.  
Of course, in the deepest most shameful part of her mind she had already been picturing what her son or daughter might look like and touching her belly lightly when people weren't looking. In different circumstances, she would have still cried but they would be happy tears. She thought back to the note Red John was written and her hands began to shake again.

She was so murderously angry at Red John for ruining her life and making her daughter grow up without a father that Riley wanted to kill him which was surprising because she wasn't a violent person. She was too moral and ethical to do anything wrong and even if she did, her conscious would be so guilty she would have to make it right.

In second grade, she had written down answers to her maths quiz on her hand and blurted out to the teacher that she was going to cheat and that she was so so sorry when the teacher placed the quiz on her desk.  
"Okay," the teacher said eyeing her warily. "Could you..just not cheat then, sweetie?"

Only a few months ago, Patrick had dragged her to one of his work things and she was freaking out because she couldn't find him and she was too painfully shy to talk to anyone.  
Then a man came and sat down beside her and said; "Hi, you look a bit lost there. I'm Andrew."  
"I'm married," she said quickly and hurried over to Patrick and gripped his arm tightly.

So she was too annoyingly good to kill a person. No matter how much they deserved it.  
She remembered exactly what Red John's words were;

_**To the lovely Mrs Jane, **_

_**I am thrilled to hear that the newest member of the Jane family is on the way. Your daughter from what I see is most certainly beautiful and I am sure that your second child will be no exception. I can not wait to see you again and have the pleasure to meet the lovely children that you and your husband have made. But until then I can only watch you both and dream of the time we will have together in which I will reunite you all with your husband.**_

_**:) **_

She glanced at her phone.  
Jill had called her five times.  
She just saw a missed call from Lisbon.  
One each from Foster and Cassidy.

The phone was ringing again. Ring, ring! Ring, ring!  
Engage with the world, Riley. Go away all of you!

It vibrated in her hand again and she saw it was Foster. She flipped it open and held it to her ear without a greeting. After she left she got a phone call from Foster.

His voice sounded like sandpaper."Why didn't you tell me?" he said.  
Riley hung up.  
She didn't like his tone.

000

Lisbon walked into her new apartment (Red John smiley-free apartment) and collapsed onto her bed. Dean had offered she stay at his place but Lisbon couldn't possibly imagine having to see him that often. Dean was like an indulgent sickly sweet. Good…in moderation.

"Hi," she heard Jane say quietly from the corner.  
Her face was smashed into a pillow so she had to turn her head to see him.  
"Hi yourself," she replied back. "Thanks for helping the search in finding your wife."  
"No problem," he said putting his hands on his knees.  
"I was being sarcastic," she said through her teeth.  
"I know, I was being condescending," Jane smiled back but it wasn't at home on his face.

Riley had eventually come home to Lisbon who was standing behind the door with her hands on her hips.  
"Where have you been?" Lisbon said angrily like a mother whose teenager had broken curfew.  
"Out," Riley said tiredly walking up the stairs.  
"Hey!" Lisbon hissed stomping after her. "You cant just go disappearing like that without letting anyone know. Theres a murderer after you."  
"I'm aware," Riley said passively sitting on her bed and removing her shoes.

"You're hormonal and your judgment is compromised," Lisbon said. "So I wont shout at you this time but if I discover that you go AWOL again, I will make your morning sickness seem like a day at Disneyland. Got it?"  
"Yes," Riley sighed pulling the blanket over her.

"Now," Lisbon said shuffling some papers by her bedside table. "I went to these websites and printed off some information about diabetes and pregnancy. If you're feeling weak it is recommended that you have more insulin than normal and we have to check your blood sugar levels more often. I've made an appointment with Dr Rowberry and booked your ultrasound."  
"Okay," Riley yawned.

Lisbon went to the door and flipped off the light. "I mean it Riley, disappear again and.."  
"You'll take me to Disneyland," Riley said sleepily. "Or something like that."  
Lisbon smiled and shut the door.

"Are you okay?" Lisbon asked Jane.  
"It doesn't matter," Jane said. "I'm not the one who has to live with the consequences like they do."  
"Its not your fault."  
"Yes it is."

Lisbon frowned.  
"You're tired," Jane commented taking in the rings underneath her eyes. "I should let you sleep."  
Lisbon closed her eyes and sighed. "Well, I'm kind of excited about the baby."  
Jane chuckled.  
"You're going to make a good mother one day, Bonny."  
Lisbon smiled warmly and slipped off into her dreams not even once concerned with his nicknames.


	11. Die For You

**Okay, I know I got a little carried away and this chapter is a bit long. Okay, its huge but hopefully not boring. Thankyou to everybody who reviews, I love you all. Hugs and kisses!**

**DIE FOR YOU**

Emily stared blankly at the keys of the piano and fidgeted in her seat.

Black, white, white, black, black, white, white, black… The colours repeated over and over in her line of sight. Again and again they duplicated, causing her to groan.

The sea of black and white stretched as far as she could see. She knew there had to be an end to the madness of blah color, but she couldn't see it.

She moved her hands up to the keyboard, lining them up with the appropriate keys like she had seen her mother do many times.

Her eyebrows furrowed in determination as she attempted to reach her pinky finger out to its correct position, but the length was too far. Her five-year-old size hand was just too tiny. In turn, she settled for having her finger just barely brushing the side of the key.

Pressing down with her thumb on middle C, she began to play a tune poorly.

"Ugh." She grumbled under breath in her sweet, innocent tone, repositioning her fingers once she finished airing her frustration. This was pointless. She hadn't received the piano-playing gene from her mother. Curse the half of her that was her father.

Emily gritted her teeth together at the sound coming from the instrument. She was a failure. She sighed, slamming her forehead full-force into the keys below. The reaction of the piano was a vibration and a chorus of reverberating notes.

Riley moved silently over to the open edge of the piano bench where her daughter was sitting.

Emily hardly noticed her mother's presence- due mostly to her face being pressed against the keyboard and her lack of care at the time of her arrival.

Riley started to play a song on the side of the piano that didn't have Emily's golden ringlets sprawled across the keys.  
Emily opened her eyes as she heard the soft, sleepy music. The melody sounded familiar and she felt completely at ease.

She turned her face towards Riley, her head still lying on the keyboard. "Mummy?"

"Yes, baby?" Riley said turning to look at Emily, not having to watch her fingers as they danced expertly over the keys.

"Why are you playing that song?" Emily said blowing a curl from her face.

"I wrote this for you when you were a baby. To comfort you when you needed it." Riley stopped playing and ran her fingers through Emily's hair, tangling them in her springing ringlets. "You looked like you could use it."  
Emily sat up again and there was a rectangular pattern on her face where she had leaned into the piano keys.

"Thankyou Mummy," she said wrapping her arms around Riley's arm and leaning against her.  
"For what?"  
"For making my song so pretty," Emily told her.  
"Do you know why you're song is so pretty?"  
"Why?" she said curiously.  
"Because you're so pretty."

"Mummy? Could you teach me how to play the piano if you are not busy now…please, I mean," she said quickly.  
"Of course I will."

Emily's large blue eyes went wide with excitement. "Really? Thankyou Mummy!"  
She clambered into her mothers lap and then frowned.

"This looks hard," she said pointing to the sheets of music that Riley had composed.  
"Oh, you wont be learning that yet," Riley told her casting them aside. The easiest song Riley could think of that used the keys that Emily's fingers could reach was Chop Sticks and even that seemed a bit of a stretch for her tiny hands.

"Chop Sticks was the first song that I learned to play so I'll teach you that."

Riley took her small hands and made them into fists leaving out her index fingers from there she placed them on the correct two keys and pressed them down simultaneously. Emily tried it on her own before Riley moved her fingers to the next set of keys.

Emily sighed and pulled her arms away.  
"What's wrong?" Riley asked.  
"I'll never be as good as you, Mummy."

Riley smiled and put her arm around her little waist. "You just have to believe in yourself and practice and then when you're a big girl you'll be able to play really well."

Emily didn't look convinced.  
"And," Riley continued. "Do you know what Mummy will have to do if you don't believe in yourself?"  
"What?"  
"Then," she said. "I'll have to do.._this_!" And Riley started to tickle Emily who screamed and squirmed away laughing.  
"Okay!" Emily squealed between giggles. "I will, I will!"

Suddenly a wave of nausea hit Riley in the stomach.  
"Mummy?" Emily said alarmed as Riley left quickly and was violently ill in the toilet.  
She leant against the bath, her head spinning. Emily's little footsteps came up to her and she knelt down beside her mother.

"Are you sick, Mummy?" Emily asked brushing strands of dark hair from Riley's sweaty forehead.  
"Just a little bit," Riley told her.

"I heard Ben say something to Teaser on the telephone…." Emily said nervously twiddling a strand of her hair.  
"You shouldn't listen to other peoples conversations Em," Riley sighed closing her eyes.

Emily's eyes widened. "I was not listening to his con-sation! I was just in there, in the kitchen. Looking for Ringo. What am I meant to do? Walk around like this?" Emily stuck her fingers in her ears.  
Riley laughed and then groaned when it hurt.

Emily crawled up closer to her and whispered so quietly that Riley had to lean down slightly to hear her.  
"Is there really a baby growing in your belly?"  
Riley wasn't sure what to say. She had laid awake at night for hours going over this conversation in her head, going over possible scenarios and reactions, choosing her words carefully and testing them out in her imagination.  
She just nodded pathetically.

"Wow," Emily breathed amazed staring at Riley's stomach for a few minutes.  
The expression must have been one of melancholy on Riley's face because Emily's softened in return when she glanced up.  
"Its okay, Mummy," she smiled and kissed Riley's stomach gently. "I'll take care of you and the baby till Daddy gets home."

000

"Dean Palmer."  
"Hey, its me," Lisbon said into the phone.  
"Teresa," she added too late.  
"Oh hey," Dean said back and then an awkward silence passed between them.

Clearly, there had to be a reason for her calling.

"Um….just was going to let you know that I'm all unpacked here and…yeah."  
"That's good," Dean said sounding like he was distracted by something.  
"So, I…ur, waited for you at the restaurant and…"  
"Sorry," he said and she heard papers shuffling. "I had things to do."  
"Yeah," Jane snorted cynically. "And I bet they all came with bikinis and Santa Fe tan lines."  
Lisbon shooed him away.

"Did you want to reschedule for tonight?"  
Reschedule. She was something that could be rescheduled.  
"Um..sorry, I'm working tonight, actually."  
"Its hard finding time between our jobs, isn't it?" he said. "Maintaining the balance and all that."  
"Mmm," Lisbon agreed. "This protection detail is more consuming than I thought it would be."  
"Oh how's that going?" he asked halfheartedly.  
"Not so good actually. The woman there is having a difficult time…"

"That Kylie girl, right? She's the depressed, plain one with the dead husband isn't she?"  
Lisbon exhaled through her nose.  
"I suppose she doesn't have to worry about maintaining a work and relationship balance anymore," he chuckled at his joke. "Oh, I have a meeting I have to run off to but I'll speak to you later okay? Bye."

The line went dead and Lisbon slammed down the phone so hard. How dare he speak about Riley like that? She thought about the way Riley cried yesterday morning and she wanted to punch that arrogant jerks nose. Sometimes she wondered why she even let him kiss her.

"What's wrong Bonny Boo?" Jane said innocently. "Little Deanie Meanie cancel your date again?"  
_No, just insulted your wife who you considerately knocked up before you went and got yourself killed you annoying, pretentious son of a bitch.  
_"No," she retorted icily. "And call me that one more time and you will be disemboweled, dismembered, castrated, decapitated, mutilated and whatever is left will be put through a woodchipper. Are we clear?"

She knew none of these threats were possible but a girl could still dream and she seemed to achieve the maximum level of shock anyway.

"Goodness," Jane said his eyes wide. "If you find my innocent terms of endearment offending there's no telling how you'll deal with Foster's codenames for you…"  
"What?" she said turning around to face him. "Codenames?"  
"Yeah," Jane shrugged. "How he refers to you to his team."  
"And how is that exactly?" she said through gritted teeth.  
"Oh, it wouldn't be gentlemanly to repeat it, ma'am."

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'd hate for you to tarnish your reputation as the gallant gentleman that I've come to know. Now tell me or I'll call in sick tonight."  
"How is that a threat to me?" he smiled.  
"Because if I cant work tonight then I suppose Foster will be the one who has to go and comfort your hormonal, pretty widow there."

His eyes narrowed at her. "You are evil, Miss Lisbon."  
"It's a necessary prerequisite when dealing with supernatural beasts. Start talking!"

"Well, you were the Ice Queen on Friday, I believe he compared you to Hitler on the weekend, on Tuesday I think it was Officer Stalin and currently you're Lisbitch. See? Now, don't I seem adorable to you Lizzy?" Jane smiled sweetly and Lisbon couldn't help but think of Emily.

"I have Foster's number on speed-dial, I swear to god…."  
"Okay, okay!" Jane said holding his hands up. "I'm sorry."

Lisbon smiled, happy that she had now found some kind of ammunition. Finally, a substantial threat to use against him when he starts with the names or the midnight singing. Who knew Foster could be this handy?

000

Foster was walking up the stairs after changing over with Cassidy. He stopped in the doorway of the bathroom and found Emily chattering away on the floor beside Riley. As soon as Emily spotted him, she positioned herself protectively in front of her mother and had a spark of something in her eyes that Foster had never seen before.

"Mummy's not feeling well, Froster," she told him seriously and then turned to her mother. "Do you want to see Froster or do you want me to send him away for you?"  
"That's okay honey," Riley said getting to her feet.  
She looked terrible, Foster wasn't afraid to admit. Especially next to Emily who was glowing like she had just gotten religion or something.

"Why don't you go downstairs and play?" Riley suggested. Emily shook her head and slipped her hand inside of Riley's.  
"I'm not leaving you alone, Mummy," she informed her. "I'm going to take good care of you."  
"That's good," Riley said brightly. "Because the doctor said that I need a nurse to listen to my heartbeat every day."  
"I can do that, I have a stethy-scope and everything!" Emily exclaimed her eyes lighting up. "I'll go set up."

She bounded off, nearly toppling into the Foster in her excitement.  
"So…" Foster started as Riley put Emily's hairbrush in the drawer. "Either your phone gets bad reception or I've upset you."

Riley remembered how she had hung up on him. "Oh," she said. "No, you didn't do anything wrong."  
He waited for her to continue but she didn't.  
"So, why didn't you tell me?"  
"Because," Riley started. "Because I didn't tell anyone. Cassidy was the one who went and made a huge production out of the news and told Lisbon and Jill and my father-in-law. My father-in-law, Foster! And basically told Emily too but I don't think he meant to. And now everybody knows and I still don't know what I'm going…"

Foster put two fingers against her lips to stop the stream of words that were coming out too fast for him to register.  
"Shh," he said. "Its not that big of a deal, Ry. I was just wondering why you didn't tell me that you went to the hospital. I thought you might've been angry at me for something."

Riley swore she felt her heart skip a beat. She was such an idiot. Foster didn't know! He only knew she went to the hospital. Oh god!

"I'm not angry with you," she said.  
"Well, that's a relief," he sighed as he led her out to the hallway.  
"Coffee?" she asked in a fake cheerful voice trying to ignore the tears in her eyes that were always on standby.  
"Riley, whats going on?" Foster asked curiously as she put the kettle on and stopped herself from getting out two cups. Lisbon would surely eviscerate her if she caught her drinking anything caffeinated.

"I know you've been sick lately and not getting much sleep so I'm glad you finally.."  
"I'm pregnant," she interrupted him suddenly.  
He stared at her. "Oh," he said his eyes wide. "Oh. Okay."

Riley waited for further acknowledgment as she took the laundry basket off the dining table.  
"Are you serious?"  
Riley looked at Ringo and wondered if she could get him washed before bedtime.  
"And freaked out and mad and everything else you could possibly imagine," she answered chucking the bear in with force that would make Emily protest angrily.

"Really?" Foster clarified again and he had an excited look about him that was similar to that of Cassidy's when the doctor told him of the news.  
Then Foster caught sight of the disparaging look Riley was giving him.  
"I mean, really?" he said in a deeper voice, putting on his sad face. She nodded.

He was torn between her being either happy or sad. She just looked…lost.  
"Wait," he said putting his hands up, just as confused as she was when she first found out. "You're pregnant?"  
"Four months," she sighed.

Oh, that made sense. Foster clicked a lot faster than she had. _He_ was alive then.

"Wow, you're…_very_ pregnant," he said dropping his gaze to her flat stomach.  
"I know," she sighed again placing the laundry basket on the bench.  
"Well, if you turn this way," he said turning her sideways and then angling her a little. He bent down slightly turning his head while examining her stomach. "Yeah, in the right light, I can see a little bump."

Riley smiled genuinely for the first time that day.  
"You can not!"  
"No I cant," he smiled back. "But I will."  
"I hope its another little girl," he said taking her off guard with the direction he was going in.  
"What?"

"I hope it's a baby girl," he repeated staring at her stomach and then looking back up at her. "And she looks just like a mini you." He imagined a small toddler with long curly dark hair, pale skin, rosy cheeks and deep blue eyes that both the Jane girls had.

Riley, however, was imaging nothing of the sort. It was this comment, worse than Michelle's that struck her. She had never thought of what happened when there was an actual alive, breathing baby.

"Is Milly excited?" he asked. "I assume that's why she was so protective."  
"Mmm," Riley mumbled. She had definitely not been expecting _this_ reaction from Foster.

To be honest, Riley had her fingers crossed that a least one person could be miserable with her. But it seemed Foster, Cassidy and Lisbon and even Emily had gotten into full baby mode. But Riley knew that as soon as Red John was caught, they would all disappear and she would either be heavily pregnant or already have a baby.  
And she would probably feel more alone than ever.

When Lisbon turned up for her shift later that evening, she nearly choked on the spoon she was using to eat her yoghurt when she saw Foster come outside to leave. For one, he was whistling. And smiling. He even waved at her. Waved at her! Of course she gave an icy nod of acknowledgment (Lisbitch? She'd shown him Lisbitch!) in return to this un-Foster-like gesture.

She was expecting him to be stomping from the house looking murderous, or maybe even choking back tears as he climbed into his car. The whistling, the waving, the smiling. It wasn't a very _I-was-just-informed-that-the-woman-I-am-so-clearly-and-obviously-falling-for-is-pregnant-with-her-late-husbands-baby-therefore-reducing-my-chances-of-ever-being-with-her-into-the-minus-figures_ kind of reaction.

It was cold and there were angry looking clouds covering the sky. A storm was clearly brewing.  
Lisbon hurried inside to investigate the source of this unwarranted behaviour of Foster's. It was past Emily's bedtime and Riley was most probably in her room so Lisbon tip-toed up the hallway.  
She heard talking in Emily's room and her door was slightly ajar.

Emily was not in bed. She was sitting on the bench of her window sill looking up at the grey, stormy sky. Ringo was seated on her lap looking much cleaner after a wash.  
Lisbon had to lean in to hear her.

"Are you going to come home now Daddy?" said Emily softly. "I think you should come home now and be Mummy's husband again. I would be the bestest daughter in the entire world and I'm pretty sure then I would not be angry. Then I would never do another bad thing in my whole life. I could write that in a contract for you. So that means you could like, sue me, if I was ever bad which I would not ever be. So please, please, pretty please come home soon."

Lisbon could feel the warmth from the heater beating down on her head. She felt as though the top of her head was melting, softening like chocolate. She imagined Emily sitting by her window begging her father to come home every night before she went to sleep. Lisbon could feel her heart bleeding and wanted nothing more than to race across the room and scoop that little girl up.

But clearly, this was something Emily clearly didn't want to be intruded on so she continued to Riley's room.  
She was sitting in a chair cross-legged eating icecream. She was sucking on the spoon thoughtfully when she noticed Lisbon.

"How you doing?" Lisbon asked sitting on the end of the bed.  
"Aside from the irony of the metaphor," Riley said digging her spoon into the icecream. "Rocky Road is doing nothing for me."  
"Its bad when icecream cant even help," Lisbon sighed.  
"Sounds like you have had plenty of pent up icecream frustration to let out," Riley commented sitting across from her handing her a second spoon.

Lisbon joined her and they sat in silence eating icecream.  
"So why are you drowning your sorrows in thousands of calories?" Riley asked.  
"I don't really think you want to hear it," Lisbon said. "Compared to what you're going through…"  
It seemed terribly insensitive to confide in Riley when her life was in tatters and Lisbon was still miffed about her boyfriends arrogance.

"Please," Riley urged. "I really want to hear about someone else life just for a moment."  
"Okay," Lisbon said getting comfortable and ready to vent her boyfriend frustration.

000

The storm had picked up outside and thunder kept rumbling throughout the night. Lisbon had let herself go on an hour long rant about Dean and all of his insensitiveness to Riley.

It felt strange to have such a willing audience to her trivial uninteresting matters. It was around that time that Lisbon suggested (ordered) that Riley go to sleep.

Lisbon was downstairs now, her work spread out on the coffee table, unable to sleep.  
She leaned her head back on the couch and turned her neck from side to side so it cracked. She rubbed her shoulder trying to relieve some tension when she heard quiet, hesitant footsteps.

Lisbon turned around and saw Emily who was standing in the doorway in her pyjamas with a sad-looking tattered Ringo dangling from her tiny hand.  
"Hey cutie pie," Lisbon yawned and Emily took this as an invitation to venture further into the living room. As she shuffled closer, Lisbon noticed the wet streaks decorating each of Emily's pink cheeks and her blue eyes that were glazed over with moisture.

"What's wrong?" Lisbon said sitting up properly not used to seeing Emily in any mood that was less than joyful.  
"I….I.…I," Emily's voice was trembling as she struggled to control her breathing. "…h..had….had…."  
"Shh," Lisbon whispered soothingly reaching out to take her tiny hand which was shaking. "Try and take some deep breaths."

She pulled Emily into her lap trying to calm her. All that trembling in her tiny body couldn't be good for her nervous system.  
"Are you scared of the thunder?" Lisbon asked quietly, brushing the golden hair from her face. She just nodded and seemed to be regaining control of her breathing again.

"I don't l-like it when it's t-thundering."  
"You know, Emily, thunder is just clouds bumping into each other. That's them saying 'Whoops sorry! Didn't see you there!'"  
"I-I don't like it when they b-bump into each other."

"Do you want me to take you up to your Mum?" Lisbon said. Emily shook her head.  
"M-m-mummy's sad," she said. "I don't want t-to make her s-s-sadder. She h-has to g-grow the baby."  
"Okay," Lisbon said thoughtfully and just hugged her close for a while until she stopped shaking.

"Do you know what me and my brother used to do when there was thunder?"  
Emily shook her head, she had stopped crying at least.  
"We used to pretend we lived in a big castle and watch scary movies."  
"I like castles!" Emily told her wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

"Princesses live in castles," Lisbon said trying to look excited.  
"Do nurses?"  
"Of course, someone needs to take care of everybody."  
Emily thought for a second.

"Will you watch a movie with me?" Emily asked seating Ringo between them.  
"I would love to."  
"Can we watch a scary movie?" Emily asked.

Lisbon thought about this for a moment, uncertain. "I guess…."  
"I wanna watch Silence of the Lambs!" Emily said excitedly. She liked lambs.  
"Absolutely not!" Lisbon said immediately.  
"Why not?" Emily asked pouting.  
"Because, for one, it's one o'clock in the morning and you'll get scared-"  
"I will n-"  
"And secondly, its rated MA15+"

Emily frowned. "Well, then can we watch Sleeping Beauty? That has a scary dragon and a witch in it!"  
Lisbon nodded. "Okay, I guess we can watch it. Are you sure you want to though?"  
Emily nodded fervently so Lisbon rummaged through the cabinet of Disney movies until she found it and put it into the DVD player.

"Are you sure you're not going to be scared?" Lisbon asked uncertain as the menu screen lit up the screen.  
"Yes, I'm sure," Emily said confidently, her little pigtails bouncing as she laid against Lisbons arm.  
"Why?" Lisbon asked curious about this confidence.

"Because you'll protect me," Emily said softly as it started.  
Then she frowned and looked down at Ringo and then back up at Lisbon.

"Teaser?" Emily said, getting her attention again.  
"Yes, sweetheart?"  
She tipped her head to the side slightly. "You would protect me…..right?"

Lisbon's mouth dropped in shock at such a question. "Of course I would!"  
"You're sure?"  
Lisbon couldn't believe that she would think for even a second that she wouldn't protect her.

"Emily, I would protect you…no matter what," Lisbon said seriously.  
"Even if you would die?" Emily asked her eyes wide.  
"Yes," Lisbon said certainly.

A few minutes went by until Emily spoke again.  
"I don't want you to do that," she said.  
"You don't want me to die?"  
"No, I don't want you to die but I 'specially don't want you to die because of me."  
Lisbon stared down at her. "Well, tough luck kiddo, cause I'd die for you anyway!"

Emily smiled slightly and laid her head back down onto Lisbons chest, getting comfortable.  
"I would die for you, too, Teaser," Emily murmured sleepily, her eyes closing a bit.


	12. Skin Deep

**Wow, I am pumping these long suckers out! This ones a little more intense and hurt/comfort than my usual stuff so I hope I wrote it okay. Thanks for your reviews **

**SKIN DEEP**

Lisbon's eyes nearly rolled in the back of her head when the hot water blissfully beat down on her back. Showers were her biggest indulgence. It was true, she knew, that her life wasn't that fulfilling. She listened to people talk about their full lives. They're training for marathons, they're learning Japanese, they're taking the kids camping and renovating their bathroom. When people ask "_What have you been up to, Teresa_?" she has to stop herself treating them to a recital of her resume. Her life revolved around work, television and little else.

It didn't mean that she led an unhappy life, though. Because she had no family of her own, and hobbies, sports or fondness for travelling, she had money to buy things that filled the empty gap. Usually, it was clothes and shoes. Really pretty dresses and sparkly heels she knew that she had nowhere to wear them to but kept them in her cupboard just to look at. But her biggest indulgence was her water bill.

Lisbon was just finishing rinsing out her conditioner when she got the most chilling feeling shoot up her spine. She shrugged it off and focused on the hot water easing the tension in her shoulders. All those cheap slashy horror films with the clichéd shower scenes must've been taking their toll. But she had this not-quite-right feeling like she was being watched or something. Maybe Bunting had returned as a ghost too and wanted to slit _her_ wrists in her bathroom. These days, everything seemed possible. She had started sympathizing with Melinda Gordon and Alison Dubois when she settled down for her weekly T.V gorge.

Lisbon turned the tap off and peeked from her shower curtain. At first, she had to squint to see through the thick steam that was covering the bathroom. It appeared empty but she wasn't a senior agent for nothing. She didn't have her gun with her. It was in the drawer beside her bed (she had taken Jane up on his advice and removed it from underneath her pillow). Lisbon swear she heard someone move.

She stepped out on to the bath mat and peered at the door as if expecting to develop some sort of x-ray vision. She was reduced to genuine old fashioned turning the handle to face whatever danger her senses were on high alert for. Lisbon silently clasped her fingers around the candlestick by the sink. It was the most weapon-ish thing she could reach. She held the candlestick above her head ready to strike and turned the door handle.

When she flung the door open ready to bring her weapon down on her intruders head, she came face to face with Jane who was smiling Jane-ishly. Then his eyes went wide and his face was in a state of total shock as was hers.  
It took her an embarrassing five seconds to kick start her brain and slam the bathroom door in his face. She grabbed her fluffy white towel and wrapped it underneath her armpits before opening the door again. This time her face was contorted into utter fury.

"What are you doing here?" she barked angrily trying to ignore the redness she knew was creeping up her neck and cheeks.  
Jane looked angry too. "I've been calling out to you….knocking on the front door for _forever_."  
Lisbon had grown used to Jane's impatience and knew that 'forever' was anything beyond twenty minutes.  
"How long where you in there for?"  
Lisbon stepped out in to her bedroom.  
"I don't know, an hour and half give or take."  
Jane gave her a disbelieving look. "What?"

She whirled around and gave him a suspicious look while ringing out her wet hair. "Where you just in my bathroom?"  
"No," Jane said. "I just came in the door."

Lisbon huffed, annoyed as she laid out her clothes. She turned to see Jane was still standing awkwardly by her dressing table. She placed her prune-wrinkled hands on her hips and he just looked at her confused.  
"You want to watch me get dressed as well?"

If he were solid, Jane would've tripped over several items in his haste to exit her apartment. After Lisbon was dressed, she spent fifteen minutes under the roaring hairdryer intent on drawing out this torture for him. She could imagine him fidgeting nervously outside like a schoolboy waiting to be told off for the terrible trouble he was in. The thought made her smile wickedly.

"Lisbon, I'm really sorry," he said quickly as she stepped out into the corridor. "I didn't mean to and I promise next time I'll wait outside and never come in until you say its okay."  
He closed his eyes and recoiled waiting for the volcano that was surely about to erupt. When it didn't, he peeked at her.

"Why were you in my apartment?" she asked, her voice leveled but injecting a chilling tone into it.  
"I was worried about you," he answered. "You weren't answering and I wanted to check that you were okay. I've made you just as much a target for Red John as anyone else."

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Yeah because if Red John was attacking me there's a hell of a lot you can do about it. Thanks but I could've handled it myself."  
Jane scoffed at this. "Yeah, Red John would've begged for mercy at the hands of you and your _candle_."

Lisbon stormed off huffily and then turned around to glare at him. "You know what smart-ass? I'm going to tell Emily that boys don't have germs. Hell, I'm going to buy her mini-skirt!"  
"Maybe you could get her a tattoo?" Jane said innocently. "Given you seem to be experienced in that area."  
Lisbon stopped dead in her tracks and her cheeks went fire engine red. Of course he had seen her tattoo. It was in a place that wasn't usually on display to the general public.

She whirled around, her voice seething. "We do not speak of this again!"  
"Fine by me," Jane smiled and followed after her angry figure.

"You cant be serious!" Riley muttered as she attempted to do up the button of her jeans. It seemed that as soon as her pregnancy was confirmed, her body had given itself the 'all clear' to start acting pregnant. Silly, she knew, but it felt that way.

Riley hadn't noticed the swelling of her stomach over the progressive weeks. It was only this morning when she had pulled on her jeans and they seem to have shrunk around her waistline. She finally gave up and threw them childishly across the room. She put on her black sweat pants and a baggy dark green jumper, not brave enough to go into the dreaded 'maternity' drawer that held all her clothes from nearly five years ago.

"Ready to go?" Foster asked tapping on the doorframe as she pulled her hair into a messy bun that was already coming apart. He smirked slightly at her attempt to disguise the undeniable bump.

"Yes," she sighed and followed him downstairs to where Emily was lying on the couch looking half dead.  
She was in a horrible mood. She was pale and snarly with purple shadows underneath her eyes as if she had a hangover.

"I think Emily might be sick," Lisbon reported to Riley an hour ago as Emily kept collapsing back against the pillow her head lolling to one side, saying sleepily; "No, thank you Teaser. I'll just stay here, thank you, goodbye."

"She's like this every morning," Riley sighed. It was Monday which was the day when the Kindergarten kids had their school visit.

Finally, after Lisbon dragged a half-comatose Emily into her clothes and spooned cereal into her mouth, they realised they were quite late.  
Emily entrusted her with her beloved Ringo and Lisbon, secretly flattered by this, promised her that Ringo would get the highest available protection the CBI could offer.

Emily had her face pressed against the window of the car as Foster drove her and her mother down the street to the school. She was gradually coming back to life.  
"Froster?" Emily yawned.  
"Yeah, Em?" Foster replied changing lanes.  
"Are we still able to do what you said we would after I come home?" she asked.  
"You bet, kiddo," he said.

"What are you doing today?" Riley asked curiously.  
"We're making you a Mothers Day surprise!" said Emily.  
"Now its not a surprise is it?" Foster said trying to put on a sad voice.  
"It is so," said Emily planting her hands on her hips and then frowned at her mothers seat. "Mummy, isn't it?"  
"Yes of course its still a surprise," Riley assured her. "I still don't know what you're making."  
"We're making special candles," Emily told her.  
"Milly!" Foster sighed exasperated.  
"Well, I still don't know what colour they are," Riley said.  
"Pink!" Emily exclaimed.

They turned the corner and Emily's little legs kicked the back of Riley's chair in excitement. "Is this were I'm going soon? Is it really, Mummy? Oh, wow, its so big! I'm going to be losted, I just know I am. The kids there are so big too. Much much much big than me. I think we should go home and change my hair, Mummy. I think my pigtails look a bit baby-ish for big girl school. Oh, I shouldn't have worn my red overalls today, I'm going to look ri-dik-o-lus."

"You look lovely Emily," Riley said unclicking her seat belt. "Everyone will love you. You're just practicing today, okay? It isn't your first day yet."

Riley got out the car. It looked like a festival. A festival of women and children. The women stood in groups of two or three, sunglasses pushed up on their foreheads, scarves slung around their necks. They wore jeans and boots, perfectly cut suede jackets. Were all mothers always this attractive and elegant?

The children whooped and swooped about in their blue school uniforms, like flocks of tiny birds. All those innocent, smooth skinned faces.  
Riley's head spun a bit and she had to lean against the car. Side effects of the car drive. Lisbon had put her motion sickness pills on a shelf she couldn't reach. Apparently pregnant women weren't allowed them.

"You wanna catch up?" Foster asked. She nodded watching Emily as she ran over to the other Kindergarten kids who were clustered together nervously. She greeted them and Foster coasted along beside her.

Foster had started kicking the soccer ball with a few Kindergarten boys and he smiled over at Riley.  
Riley smiled back politely. He was nice, there was no denying it. He was very, very….nice.

"Have you slept with him yet?" a posh, British voice said in her ear.  
It was that dreadful Kerrie Mason woman.

"Hi," Riley said automatically. Kerrie was wearing a beautifully fitting trench coat, skin polished, lips shimmery. It was a bit much for this time of the morning, making Riley feel especially hideous.  
Kerrie didn't wait for an answer. "God, I'm jealous. Its been a year for us?"  
"I'm sorry?"  
"A year since we've done the deed," she explained. "I must have cobwebs down there."  
The things people told you.

"Um, no. He's just my friend."  
Riley automatically and without thinking looked around for Patrick. He always rescued her when she was trapped in these god awful situations. A person waved to her.

It was Graham Oliver. He was the school principal and had a little boy, Elliot in Kindergarten who was friends with Emily. All the mothers seemed to find him attractive and all fluttered nervously around him but Riley just found him a bit dorky but nice enough. Him and Patrick talked at the kids birthday parties.

Kerrie blushed clearly mistakening herself as who Graham was waving at. She pulled at at strand of gold hair that had got caught on her sticky lips.

"Well, you should. He's a fine example of the modern American man. Oh, look at the time! I'm sorry Rachel dear but I'm late for my waxing appointment." Riley didn't bother correcting her name.  
Kerrie clip-clopped off in her high heels swinging her handbag over her shoulder and tightening the belt of her trench coat. What a dreadful woman. She hoped Emily wasn't in Chloe Mason's class.

Foster kept up the conversation for the both of them while they drove back home. To be completely honest, Riley found him extraordinarily nice but his type of company wasn't something she was used to.  
He was just so _intense. _About everything! He was so serious and seriousness was something new to the Jane household and she had repressed the urge on occasion to poke him in the ribs or smack him over the head and say _'Lighten up, you!'_

Sometimes he would look at her with such a deep intensity when she was doing the most commonplace things like the laundry or flossing her teeth, it made her turn bright red and try to pretend he wasn't there. And his overprotectivness had only gotten worse since she found out she was pregnant.

Thankfully, Cassidy was there in his lab coat. Riley was jealous – she missed work. She was a nerd at heart and she knew it. Nothing gave her a greater thrill than double helixes, chemical equations and latent fingerprinting. Maybe if she got back to the test tubes, blood spatter and computers, she might feel like her actual self again. At the moment, she felt as if she was living someone else life.

"You should go sleep," Foster said putting his hand on her shoulder which she casually shrugged away from. Riley wasn't especially tired but she wasn't particularly in the mood for sitting around while Foster and Cassidy cast her wary, unsure looks like she was somehow mentally incompetent.

That left Foster and Cassidy in the living room where they were making the candle wax for Emily's surprise for Riley. Well, not so much a surprise anymore.

A sudden quiet noise in the other room made them both freeze and look at it each other as if to say; _'Did you hear that?'  
_Another soft rhythm of footsteps met their ears and Cassidy mouthed "Red John?" to Foster. Foster shrugged at him and reached for the gun at his belt. Riley would be okay, she was upstairs and the intruder was down here with them.

Foster pointed Cassidy in the direction of the other doorway while he took the other side. Cassidy grabbed a saucepan, not being one for guns himself. Whoever it was about to walk through the doorway and Foster nodded at Cassidy. He took a massive swing and the saucepan collided with the head of the person who was in the doorway with a loud resounding TWHACK!

"Gotcha, you son of a bitch!" Cassidy whooped and turned into the doorway with Foster who pointed his gun to the unconscious body on the floor.  
As soon as he caught sight of the motionless figure lying on the floor his blood ran cold and his eyes met with Fosters in mutual shock.

"Oh crap!"

000

Lisbon was lounging on her couch eating corn chips. The only other sound in the room was the television. And Jane of course. He had never met someone quite like Lisbon before. Jane had never known someone to have the marathon showers that Lisbon did nor someone who was so addicted to television.

"Why don't you listen to some music?" Jane asked getting bored with the re-runs of trashy soaps that Lisbon seemed to enjoy.  
No. She wanted television. She wanted gunshots and canned laughter and dog food commercials. Nothing seems so tragic when the television was blaring.

Before her pet ghost had come along, these lonely nights were spent pondering how little she had achieved in her life. And when she thought about that she felt…nothing. Nothing at all.  
A huge, empty, endless nothingness that she was filling up with corn chips and _Americans Funniest Home Video Show. _

Lisbon ignored him. It was her apartment. If she wanted to have hour long showers and watch unhealthy amounts of TV then by damn she would. Suddenly, the T.V crackled to a blank black screen and her lamp switched off leaving her in complete darkness.

She turned to Jane, her mouth full of corn chip. "What did you do?"  
He looked shocked and raised his hands as if she had drawn her gun on him. "Nothing, I swear to god!"  
Lisbon said her favourite swear word as she stood up and looked out of her window. Sure enough, everybody else's windows were dark. Excellent.

"Oh well," Jane said stretching across her couch. "Have you got any good board games?"  
She groaned and fell in to a cushion. Her hot water and TiVo were her lifelines. She wished it wasn't her night off and she could go to Riley's house early.

"What you wanna do?" Jane asked propping himself up with her hands and looking at her. She still had her face buried into the cushion. She removed it and sat next to him.  
"Die," she mumbled and crossed her arms across her chest.

Jane chuckled. "Death is my thing, Libby. But if you prefer we can sit here in silence for an indefinite period of time."  
A few minutes passed and Lisbon found that his silence was more annoying than anything. She would go crazy with boredom if she had to sit here in silence any longer. So she had to resort to the most lamest form of entertainment in power failure history.

"Wanna play secret for a secret?" she asked.  
"That is the most childish and immature game ever," Jane said before breaking out into a massive grin. "Lets do it!"  
"Okay," Lisbon said turning to face him. "I'll ask you a question first…"  
"Bring it on, Lizzy."

Lisbon thought for a moment. "Alright, when you were working at the carnival what was the worst psychic reading gone wrong?"  
"Theres so many," Jane said reminiscently. "I don't even know where to begin."  
"Just pick the first one that comes to mind."

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "There was this one man who was obviously grieving and showing classic widow symptoms but he wasn't wearing a wedding ring so I assumed it was a girlfriend or lover. So I did a reading and said that someone he loved deeply had passed away. He said yes. Then I told him that she was happy and looking over him and wanted him to move on. Blah, blah, blah. Then he gave me this icy, confused stare and I'm like 'oh crap'"

"Were you wrong about the dead lover?" Lisbon asked.  
"No, I was right about that."

"What was it then?"  
"He was gay."

Lisbon burst out laughing. It actually wasn't that funny, actually it was quite terrible but thinking about Jane being in that awkward situation was just too funny to imagine.

"Okay Chuckles," he said evilly rubbing his hands together. "Your turn!"  
Lisbon groaned but was still smiling widely as he looked at her intently like a predator sizing up its prey.  
"What's the story behind that tattoo of yours Mother Teresa?" he asked.

Her laughter died away instantly and a strange expression crossed her face. Obviously this topic was off-limits.

"Oh come on, it cant be that bad can it?" Jane asked. "A drunken 21st? An exboyfriend you thought was the love of your life? An act of teenage rebellion? Theres hundreds of Americans out there with tattoo remorse and its not like yours is a complete tramp stamps, its actually kind of cute."

She didn't say anything, she just kept looking straight ahead and the darkness allowed Jane to only see a sliver of her face.  
"Its not like I'm going to tell anyone," Jane wheedled. "And you have had practically an all access pass into my life. Wouldn't this tiny little secret even the balance a little?"

Lisbon looked at him in the face and Jane was slightly taken aback by the thoughtful un-Lisbon-like gaze she gave him. Whatever she saw, it obviously was enough to trust him with her tale because she looked back ahead of her and started talking.

"I suppose it did start off as an act of teenage rebellion that spun out of control," she sighed. I was fifteen and well, stupid. I was with this guy…a total jerk, of course…"  
"And you got his name etched into your skin for eternity?" Jane prodded smiling at the thought of a gothic mini Lisbon.

"No," she said sadly and he fell silent again.

"I..I just had enough of my Dads drinking and having to listen to my brothers bicker all that time and I missed my Mum so much," she took a deep breath. "So I guess…I just needed someone to hold me and he was…willing, I suppose you'd call it."

She paused and Jane felt he shouldn't interrupt and let her go on at her own pace. Clearly, this story was much more deeper than it had first appeared.

"A few weeks later I found out that I was pregnant," she said closing her eyes. "My Dad wasn't angry, just disappointed. He had always had high hopes for me."

At this point, Jane wanted to swallow up all his words. Delete them and throw in some generic question like 'your most embarrassing moment' or 'funniest drunk story'. Clearly, he had prodded a painful memory of Lisbons and watching her relive it in her eyes upset him.

"When I told my boyfriend, he just laughed at me. He _laughed_ at me. I had never felt so used and disgusting in all my life. My older brother got locked up for the night after beating him up. It caused so my family so much pain."

"Did you keep the baby?" Jane asked quietly and Lisbon gave a dark hard laugh that didn't suit her at all.

"I lived in a very religious area. The only thing more shameful than a teenage pregnancy was abortion. I had such a hard time there. Everybody gave me dirty looks and and called my horrible things. But did anyone blame the father? No he was winning them football championships, preparing to go off to college. He was the hometown hero and I was the slutty little tramp…."

Jane could feel his heart breaking for her. How dare people hurt her that way? She was one of the most selfless, strong, kindest people he had ever had the fortune to meet in his life (well, his death technically, but still…)

"My Dad said that we could find a nice family for the baby so it could have a good life and I could still go and have a future. I was so scared when I felt the first contraction. It hurt so much but it was worth it in the end. I only got to hold Michael once. He was so tiny…"

She was a thousand miles away now and there was a look in her eyes that Jane understood perfectly. Holding your baby for the first time was something you couldn't describe by mere words.

"At that moment, I didn't care what people thought. I just wanted to run away with my son. But I love him so much and I knew I couldn't give him up. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. We ended up moving and I was so disgusted with myself that I left home and removed myself from everything. When I was twenty and I had a place to live and a job to support myself I went looking for Michael. I had enough money and a two bedroom house. I wanted to have him back if he didn't have a family. I even picked out blue curtains for his room," she grimaced painfully.

"Did you go back?" Jane asked.  
"Yeah," Lisbon sighed softly. "I went back to the adoption agency I gave him to and they told me..they told…"  
Tears started to well up in her eyes and Jane moved closer to her so they were sitting side by side. "Its okay, Lisbon."

"He died a few months earlier. Of Leukemia. They had been searching for me frantically because he needed a bone marrow transplant from a living parent and I was the only name they had on record. But because I moved and cut myself off from everyone, they had no way of reaching me…"

Lisbon leaned away from him and opened the drawer in the cupboard beside the couch. She pulled something out and laid it on her knee delicately. Tears were spilling fast down her cheeks now.

"He was Emily's age. He was just four years old," she choked. "Only a baby….I let my baby die."  
"No, Teresa," Jane said wanting so badly to be able to cry for her. "You didn't know."

He looked down in her lap at the aged photograph that rested there.

The photo was of a little boy with thick messy brown hair who was gazing into the camera with Lisbons sparkling green eyes. There was a clear tube taped underneath his nose and he was in a hospital gown, sitting cross-legged in a chair beside a stuffed Tigger. There was a colouring book in his lap and a crayon poised against the page. He had the cutest startled expression on his face clearly just glancing up as the picture was taken.  
He was all Lisbon, with no interference from his fathers features what so ever.

Lisbon knew every inch of this damn picture. How his irises were rimmed with gold, the tiny tear in Tiggers left ear, the paisley pattern on his hospital gown, the dimples in his tiny knuckles as he held the blue crayon. She had laid awake and counted his long dark eyelashes many evenings.

"Anyway," Lisbon said chuckling slightly through her tears. "Returning back to your question, I got the tattoo of his name just after his funeral. It would've been his fifteenth birthday a few weeks ago."

Jane didn't know what to say. This still affected Lisbon so deeply and for once, he had no idea how to comfort her. He couldn't imagine losing his Emily. It was such an impossible excruciating concept that he couldn't even try to think about. Jane had so many memories of her. Soothing her when she cried, cuddles and kisses, changing diapers, her first smile, her first steps, the little tooth that appeared in her upper gum, her first bee sting, birthdays and Christmases….

Lisbon didn't even have that. All she had of the little person who grew inside of her was one memory and this photo.  
"Its okay, Jane," she said wiping her eyes on her sleeve feeling slightly embarrassed by this emotional outburst. Usually there conversations were light-hearted and full of humourous banter. "You're the first person I've ever told. Or don't you count?"

Jane smiled. "I count."  
Lisbon started picking at the frayed hem of her shirt.  
"Is this why you're such a pregnancy-Nazi with Riley?" he asked, knowing the answer.

She smiled and nodded. "I guess so. I know she's terrified about her situation and she isn't accepting whats inevitable but…she will love her baby when it comes and I suppose by helping her now…I feel like I'm making up for Michael. Not that it does make up for anything, it just feels like my existence in this world isn't total waste."

"Don't ever think that," Jane said resting his hand on her shoulder and wishing she could feel it too. Maybe just knowing he was there would be enough. "And you know what?"  
"What?"  
"When all this is over and I go….wherever I go," he said. "I'll find Michael and I'll tell him how great his mother is and how much she loves him."

Jane wasn't a big believer in the afterlife and neither was Lisbon for that matter but it was a comforting possibility at the very least.

A few minutes of silence passed that they both needed before Lisbons mobile vibrated in her pocket. Sniffing and hoping her voice still wasn't shaky she flipped it open and pressed it to her ear.

"Yeah?" she said pinching the bridge of her nose. Her reaction to whatever news that was being delivered was as involuntary and unstoppable as a huge hayfevery sneeze. It was feeling of trembly rage and it went straight from the stomach to her head in a WHOOSH.

"YOU DID WHAT TO HER?" 

**I know, quite an intense chapter so I hope it didn't go a bit over the top. Tell me what you think!**


	13. Friends

**!~ Hey, so lots of you seemed to really like Lisbons story so I felt like that I had to give credit to my source of inspiration. I wrote the last chapter in my Literature class when the idea came from one of my favourite poems by Anne Sexton which I am proud to say that I can type off by heart and thought I'd share with you. Please read it because it is such a beautiful poem especially the last stanza. I hope you enjoy it as well as the new chapter which is fairly short (for me)~!**

_**UNKOWN GIRL IN THE MATERNITY WARD**_

_Child, the current of your breath is six days long.  
You lie, a small knuckle on my white bed;  
lie, fisted like a snail, so small and strong  
with love. At first hunger is not wrong.  
The nurses nod their caps; you are shepherded  
down starch halls with the other unnested throng  
in wheeling baskets. You tip like a cup; your head  
moving to my touch. You sense the way we belong.  
But this is an institution bed.  
You will not know me very long._

_The doctors are enamel. They want to know  
the facts. They guess about the man who left me,  
some pendulum soul, going the way men go  
and leave you full of child. But our case is history  
stays blank. All I did was let you grow.  
Now we are here for all the ward to see.  
They thought I was strange, although  
I never spoke a word. I burst empty  
of you, letting you learn how the air is so.  
The doctors chart the riddle they ask me  
and I turn my head away. I do not know._

_Yours is the only face I recognise.  
Bone and my bone, you drink my answers in.  
Six times a day I prize  
your need, the animals of your lips, your skin  
growing warm and plump. I see your eyes  
lifting their tents. They are blue stones, they begin  
to outgrow their moss. You blink in surprise  
and I wonder what you can see, my funny kin,  
as you trouble my silence. I am a shelter of lies.  
Should I learn to speak again, or hopeless in  
such sanity will I touch some face I recognise?_

_Down the hall the baskets start back. My arms  
fit you like a sleeve, they hold  
catkins of your willows, the wild bee farms  
of your nerves, each muscle and fold  
of your first days. Your old mans face disarms  
the nurses. But the doctors return to scold  
me. I speak. It is you my silence harms.  
I should have known. I should have told  
them something to write down. My voice alarms  
my throat. 'Name of father – none." I hold  
you and name you bastard in my arms._

_And now that's that. There is nothing more  
that I can say or lose.  
Others have traded life before  
and could not speak. I tighten to refuse  
your owling eyes, my fragile visitor.  
I touch your cheeks, like flowers. You bruise  
against me. We unlearn. I am shore  
rocking you off. You break from me. I choose  
your only way, my small inheritor  
and hand you off, trembling the selves we lose.  
Go child, who is my sin and nothing more. _

_-Anne Sexton_

**FRIENDS**

There was a lovely summery fragrance like coconut and sunscreen in the air that she breathed in through lips that tasted like salt. She felt weightless, like she was floating on…air? water? clouds? She couldn't pinpoint exactly but the feeling of something soft and gentle lapping at her body and the salty taste of her lips lead her to believe that she was in water. Now that she thought about it, there was a distant crashing sound. Waves, maybe? So the ocean, perhaps.

Riley peeked through her eyelashes to see bright sunshine assaulting her eyes, the spangled light creating pretty patterns against the water. It was very warm…almost hot, but the coolness under her made her temperature absolutely perfect.

She felt a tiny pudgy hand fall into her palm. Automatically, she stroked her thumb over it and felt that the skin was deliriously soft and silky like a baby's. What on earth was a baby doing in the ocean all by itself?  
She turned her head to the side and opened her eyes ever so slightly to see tiny face looking back at her. The baby was in floaties, its little legs flapping frantically to keep its chin above the water, a look of worry and excitement on its face.

"Look at you!" she said because the words felt natural in her mouth. "Swimming all by yourself!"

The answer to this praise was a long gurgling giggle, like a stream of soap bubbles. She was filled with sleepy contentment and she tipped her head back and let the cool water slide silently over her face so the light shone spangled in different directions and the baby's gentle cooing echoed all around her, filling the deep empty space.  
It was quiet and dark and cool and the only thing she could feel besides absolute peace was the little hand clutching onto her finger at the surface, preventing her from sinking all the way down and never coming back up again.

Then she noticed the baby's gurgling was becoming slurred like bad radio reception and the sunlight was dimming. But Riley didn't mind because nothing bad ever happens here.  
Then the baby disappeared completely, her hand was empty, the sound gone. Darkness was crawling quickly around her, smothering the sunlight until she couldn't see or feel anything. It suffocated her, she couldn't breathe.

"_Its okay," _Patrick told her and she immediately relaxed, because he was there and he never lied to her. Everything was okay. Everything was okay. Was she dreaming? She felt like it. She felt as if she was waking up from a deep deep sleep.

That's when she noticed the throbbing ache in her head. What was that all about? Dreams weren't supposed to hurt this much.

Her thoughts sharpened. No one had warned her about this pain in her head. She was prepared for a whole range of symptoms; heartburn, dizziness, nausea, extreme tiredness. But nothing about this hammering pain in the side of her head. That one should really have been mentioned because it was very painful. Of course, if she couldn't handle a run-of-the-mill headache….

She let herself drift again and lose hold of whatever grip of reality she had managed to grasp in the darkness.  
The best thing would be to fall back asleep and return to that lovely dream. She wanted to sleep but she couldn't get comfortable. The water felt like cold concrete. If she wriggled across she could nudge Patrick with her foot until he sleepily rolled over and pulled her to him in a big warm hug.  
Where was Patrick? Had he already got up? Maybe he was making a cup of tea. Riley wanted to send him a telepathic message to get her some paracetamol for her head.

Were all pregnant women walking around with headaches like this? Was the idea to toughen them up for labour pains. When she got up she would ask Teresa. She was the one who had all those fact sheets and huge baby books that Riley pretended to read. She didn't have these god awful headaches when she was carrying Emily. Was this normal? But this pregnancy had already been worse than her first one. With Emily, she hadn't been throwing up every five seconds, feeling nauseated all the time and being all weak and dizzy.

Ow! She always forgot how pain was so upsetting. Cruel. It hurt your feelings. You just wanted it to stop, please, right now. Epidurals were the way to go. One epidural for my headache please.  
Maybe this was morning sickness?  
Was it even morning? Possibly. Patrick listened to the radio sometimes in the morning and she could hear the distant, muffled voices of people. And beeping. Loud, annoying beeping in a measured rhythm. Beep, beep, beep. Every second.

An unfamiliar voice that rang with professionalism and expertise caught her attention, merely because it was the only she could make out in the cacophony of noise.  
"Mrs Jane, can you hear me? Can you hear me, Mrs Jane?"

"_Tadpole, can you hear me? Can you hear me, Tadpole?" _

Every night before they went to sleep, Patrick talked to the baby through and empty toilet roll pressed to Riley's stomach_. _He'd heard the idea from some television show. They said that way the baby would learn to recognise thefathers voice as well as the mothers.

They'd read the baby was only the size of a Tadpole by now so that's what they called it, given they couldn't agree on a name. Only in private of course, they were cool parents to be.

The baby! She'd been selfishly thinking about her sore head when she should have been worrying about the poor little baby. What sort of mother was she going to be?

There was a beeping sound somewhere and other voices. Raised voices that hurt her ears and made her head throb. Not necessary painfully. She felt entirely disconnected from her body.  
Presumably this was only the squidgiest fraction of how much labour would hurt. So that was just great! 

"IDIOTS!"  
Riley winced slightly at the loud, unexpected shout. Clearly, the people that were being addressed spoke in softer voices because she could only hear the one loud voice that she had grown familiar to.

"…..SO YOU KNOCKED HER OUT JUST ON THE OFF-CHANCE SHE WAS SOMEONE ELSE? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO?"  
"DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, I SWEAR TO GOD!"  
"Lisbon, this was my fault I-"  
"OKAY! OKAY! IF FOSTER HAD GOTTEN THERE BEFORE YOU, WHAT WOULD FOSTER HAVE DONE? SHOT HER?"

"Mrs Jane, I need you to squeeze my hand if you can hear me okay?" the same strange authoritive voice told her. She tried but she felt so disconnected in her body and couldn't find her hands. Riley heard Lisbon shouting again. It was becoming clearer now, like the lens of a telescope becoming more focused. Wait…Lisbon, Cassidy and Foster were all here? Who was with Emily? Panic exploded in her chest and travelled all the way up to her head to the tips of her toes. A machine beeped more frantically in response.

Riley searched until she found her eyes and opened them against her body which was protesting the sudden jerk of consciousness. There was a blur of unrecognisable shapes and colours.  
"Whoa, lets get that blood pressure and heart rate down."

She didn't like the way the doctor said this. Like she was telling her off as if Riley had purposely made her heart beat faster. Just to be nasty.

"Emily," she said deliriously and Lisbon quickly came to her side. Riley could hear Lisbon murmuring urgently to the nurse, asking if she could see the doctor, wanting to know what tests had been done.

"How do you know she hasn't got some sort of clot in her brain?" Lisbon's voice rose a bit hysterically. Riley smiled at her seriousness. (Although, could there be a clot? A dark ominous thing swooping about in her head like

evil bat? Yes, they really should look into that.)

"What happened?" Riley asked the blurry-Lisbon. Foster was always in the background, not brave enough to meet Lisbons burning green eyes that shot him bone-chilling glares every time he got within five metres of Riley.

"How about you ask Mr Shoot-First-Think-Later over there," she said menacingly.

"I did _not_ shoot her," Foster replied coolly.

"You could have which is just as bad," Lisbon snapped back hovering over Riley protectively and speaking to her.  
"Foster and Cassidy accidentally knocked you out."  
"Yeah," Jane snorted cynically. "That was his plan all along. Knock her out, drag her body into his car and smuggle her to some island."

"How?" Riley asked. The last thing she could remember was putting her glass away in the kitchen.

"They heard a noise and got a little..overexcited," Lisbon said through gritted teeth.  
"I'm pretty sure this is appropriate grounds for shooting Foster," Jane said confidently. "Preferably in the face….several times….."

"Don't be angry with them," Riley sighed. "Its my fault. They thought I was upstairs."  
"This isn't your fault," Lisbon said sternly. "You just need to focus on resting…for you and the baby."  
Riley made an involuntary face when Lisbon said 'and the baby' which reminded her of her other baby.

"I need to pick Emily up from preschool," she said suddenly trying to get out of bed and Lisbon pushed her down gently but firmly.  
"Not for another hour and I'll do that," Lisbon told her. "You need to stay here and rest. Concussions can be serious, you know? And lately, the emergency room has been somewhat of a gym membership to you."

"How long was I out for?" Riley asked.  
"An hour or so," Lisbon said. "They did an ultrasound and the baby is okay but I convinced them to do a CT scan."  
"I don't think that's neces-"  
"I'm sorry Riley, I didn't know you were an expert in neurosurgery," Lisbon cut her off.  
"Whoa," Jane said smiling slightly. "Someone had a nice big bowl of bitchflakes this morning."

Lisbon knew she couldn't retort to this comment in front of Riley and Foster. No doubt she would be carted off to the loony bin if she started yelling abuse at the empty space next to her. So she did the only thing she could think of.

"Actually," Lisbon said sweetly looking at Foster. "Foster hasn't left your side since we got here."  
"Really?" Riley said surprised looking at him.  
"Don't compliment him!" Jane complained.  
He shrugged. "It's the least I can do given it was my fault."  
"No it wasn't," Riley told him softly.  
"He even got you flowers," Lisbon continued gesturing to the bunch of tulips in the vase on the bedside table.  
"Oh thank you, Foster," Riley said. "They're lovely. That was so nice of you."

"It was, wasn't it?" Lisbon said trying not to laugh at Jane who was now flailing his arms about trying to shut her up.  
"Silly girl!" Jane yelled. "You're making him look good."  
"Its nothing really," Foster said and Jane scoffed.  
"What an act. So pompous!"  
"I'm just glad you're feeling better…."  
"I need you to punch him!" Jane said to Lisbon. "Come on!"

"Well," Lisbon said looking at her watch. "It's time for your CT scan but I'm sure Foster will wait being the considerate and concerned friend that he is."  
"I'll be in the waiting room," Foster said cheerfully smiling at Riley before leaving, slightly surprised at Lisbons praise. If only he knew her true motive.

"Have I done something to personally offend you, Lisbon?" Jane asked grumpily as they waited for Riley to come back. Lisbon sighed.  
"There are so many ways I could answer that question."

Jane sulked and went quiet and surly.  
"What do you have against Foster anyway, Jane?" Lisbon asked curiously. "Besides the obvious reason, why do you hate him so much?"

"I don't hate him," Jane said. "I just…have a strong, intense, murderous dislike for him."  
"He's good to her," Lisbon reminded him.  
"I know," Jane sighed.

A few minutes past and Lisbon watched him carefully.  
"I don't mean to go all Dr Phil on you but you have to know that one day she might…. move on."  
"I know that," Jane said. "And I'm fine with that."  
"Yeah, I should have known by that crippling stare on your face ever since you walked in here."

"It would've been nice to just have some time to ease into the idea of someone liking her."  
"You were in love with her Jane," Lisbon said. "That's not something you just _ease_ out of. What's this really about?"  
"He's not good enough for her," Jane said simply.  
"Come on," Lisbon said rolling her eyes. "Would you say differently about anybody else?"

Jane didn't say anything and Lisbon took this as confirmation. She sighed and rummaged through the various flowers and cards by Riley's table.  
"What are you doing?" Jane asked.  
"Investigating," Lisbon said. "I'm thinking of making a career out of it."  
"I don't think going through gift cards and gerberas falls into your snoop jurisdiction?"  
"Yeah, well I'll take my chances with the jury," she said flipping open cards and scanning them quickly with her eyes. "I let something from Red John get to her once, its not going to happen again."

"Hmm," she said quietly after a moment flipping a generic black and white condolences card back and forth. "This one is from her father."  
"Her father?" Jane said confused. "That must be a mistake, they don't-"  
"Talk," Lisbon finished for him and he looked at her incredulously.  
"What?" she said. "I have a three megabyte file on Riley. I know her favourite cereal. Maybe he wants to talk to her again."

"Yeah," Jane said sarcastically. "Nothing says 'I love you' like a $1.50 piece of cardboard."  
"What?" Lisbon asked. "You two don't get along….didn't get along, I mean?"  
"You could say that," he said thoughtfully. "I haven't seen him in…god, would be going on eleven years or so now."  
"Wow," Lisbon breathed. "What did he say that was so bad?"  
"I remember his exact words; "I will not let my teenage daughter throw away her life by running away with some carnival boy that couldn't possibly support her or give her the future she deserves."

"That's…harsh," Lisbon said slowly putting the card down. "Should I let her see this then?"  
"I wouldn't," Jane said eyeing the card warily as if there was some explosive device attached.  
"I think its sweet that he wants to make amends," Lisbon told him.  
"He isn't here to make amends, he's here to gloat. Trust me."  
"She's his daughter," Lisbon explained to him. "If Emily ran away from you with some boy from the circus, how would you feel?"  
"I would never disown her no matter what she did," Jane said. "And I wouldn't give her a reason to have to run away. I would never make her unhappy the way Riley was."

"Well, he's her family," Lisbon said placing the card gently among them. "If Riley wants to see him, I think you should be supportive. Besides, its not like Fosters going to let any harm come to her."  
"Was that comment really necessary?" Jane asked glaring at the woman.

"People can surprise you Jane," Lisbon said straightening a ribbon.  
"Um, correct me if I'm wrong but I believe it was your beloved Foster who instigated the term Lisbitch among the law enforcement agency."  
Lisbon smiled slightly. "He's okay."  
Jane just looked at her sideways.  
"What?" she asked blushing at this intense gaze upon her.  
"You amaze me Lisbon," Jane told her. "You look for the best in people even when they walk all over you."  
"I guess that explains why we're friends," Lisbon laughed softly.  
"Oh," Jane said feigning surprise. "So we're friends now?"  
"Well," Lisbon said seriously. "I wont tell anybody if you don't."

**All Reviews Are Loved!  
xoxoxoxoxoxox**


	14. Complicated

**Hello - just a quick question to ask of you's. Should Riley have a boy or girl? And if so, names please.  
Yeah, lazy of me, I know. Anyway, thank you so so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter xoxoxox. You guys are awesome. **

**COMPLICATED**

Apparently Riley's CT scan was unremarkable which made her feel ashamed of her mediocrity. It reminded her of her primary school reports with every box ticked satisfactory and comments like '_a quiet student, needs to contribute more in class' _

They might as well just have written across the front page; _'So boring, we actually don't know who she is.'_

Her best friend Kassie's reports had some boxes ticked '_Outstanding'_ and others '_Below_ _Standard'_ and comments like; _"Can be a little disruptive_.' Riley had yearned to be disruptive but she didn't know how you got started so remained the plain, boring nerd. It seemed nothing much had changed.

"We're concerned about your head injury so we're going to keep you overnight for observation," the doctor told her.  
"Okay," Riley said self consciously, imaging a row of doctors and nurses with clipboards sitting next to her bed and watching her sleep (sometimes she talked and she didn't want to say anything embarrassing).

Lisbon looked up as two people entered the room. The first, Dr Rowberry, she hadn't met before so didn't recognise however the nurse with him looked familiar and Lisbon remembered it was the girl from her first visit who didn't look old enough to be out of high school.

Lisbon stayed with her while they did the ultrasound. Riley bit her lip as the doctor squirted cold jelly on her stomach. She had the most excruciatingly ticklish skin. Dr Rowberry set up the screen in the corner while the nurse picked up something that reminded Riley of a grocery store scanner. She ran it over the jelly on her tummy until she found whatever she was searching for.

"There's your baby," she said shyly. Maybe it was her first time. Riley looked and there projected on the lit up screen was her potential baby. Riley tried to make out a shape but it just looked like a jumble of black and grey matter to her.

"Good, its in the right spot," Dr Rowberry said blandly as if her uterus was a piece of industrial equipment.  
Riley didn't bother to marvel or say anything like '_oh, isn't it amazing?_' She didn't bother to keep the memory in case she one day had to describe it to her child. She felt something in her throat and fought against it.

Lisbon, however, was amazed by it. She listened intently to the baby's steady heartbeat that sounded like horses galloping under water.  
She was aware of Jane's indiscreet exit when Dr Rowberry came and Lisbon felt for him. She had no idea what he must be feeling. To know that he could disappear from them any second. Best not to get attached at all.

Since her recent discussion with Jane where she had discovered he wasn't a complete ass, Lisbon was feeling slightly bad about her behaviour regarding Foster. Because of this she arranged it so that Foster would have as little amount of interaction with Riley as possible. Alex and Michelle had picked Emily up from preschool and was looking after her at home.

After double and triple checking with the nurse that Riley and the baby were going to be okay, Lisbon left the room to see Foster and Cassidy looking equally horrified with themselves. Lisbon sauntered over to them, flanked by Jane who was a serious advocate of Foster-flogging, therefore not wanting to miss an opportunity.

"I'm going to sort out paperwork," she said to them icily making them flinch with every syllable she spoke.  
"_IF_ it is possible, I would prefer you to _NOT_ maim Riley Jane with cooking utensils in my absence. And be it known that if there is but a single scratch on her when I return, be it your fault or not, I will make it my personal mission to eradicate the pair of you in the most slowest and most painful way known to mankind, are we clear gentlemen?"

Jane was amazed at how two grown men could shrink under the wrath of a woman half their size then again he sometimes found himself recoiling under Lisbons sharp green eyed glare when he had overstepped the mark.

"Cassidy," she said turning to him. "You're going to stay here tonight. Foster, after I have this sorted, we're leaving."

There seemed to be no question of them disobeying and Jane was still looking at Lisbon in awe as they walked down the hallway towards the front desk.

"Back again?" the receptionist said. Lisbon remembered her from her accident that seemed to be ages ago. Funny, how quickly your life can change and your priorities can shift.

000

It was late when Lisbon and Foster arrived at the house. Alex, Michelle and Emily had all been long asleep and Foster retreated to the dining room to go over his security plans. Did that guy ever sleep? Lisbon bade him goodnight before going upstairs and stopping by Emily's room.

Emily shivered slightly in her deep slumber and Lisbon pulled her blanket more tightly around her, making sure Ringo was tucked securely into her arm before she departed to go to sleep herself.

She walked into her bedroom and saw Jane lying on the carpet with his hands behind his head, staring at ceiling.  
"Hey," Lisbon said sliding into bed.  
"Hey," he said back morosely. This was uncharacteristic behaviour and Lisbon knew that as his 'friend' she should comfort him somehow but silent undisturbed evenings such as these were so rare she really wanted to grasp the opportunity to get a few solid hours of uninterrupted sleep while she could.

However, after forty five minutes of tossing she realised this was not going to happen.  
"Stop thinking!" she demanded.  
"What?"  
"I can hear your eyebrows scrunching," she told him.  
He sighed.  
"THERE! EYEBROWS!" she exclaimed.

She waited for him to smile but he didn't and she frowned.  
"What's wrong Jane?"  
"Nothing."  
"You know I can tell when your being less than honest."

He looked at her for a second and then his gaze went back to the ceiling.  
"Its just….more complicated than I thought."  
"It'll work out," she promised him.  
"How?"

Lisbon opened her mouth and then shut it again. There was no way this could have a truly happy ending. The best possible outcome was having Red John dead or arrested. Then what? Jane would disappear. She would go back to her old life which seemed even more miserable now she had seen what a life with a family is like. The thought of marrying and producing any kind of offspring with Dean Palmer was laughable. What about Riley? Could she handle Emily and a newborn baby when she was barely coping as it was?

"It just will," she said hoping that if she said it enough she would begin to believe it.

000

The next morning, Alex and Foster were watching a football game in the living room while Michelle and Lisbon sat at the table and talked. Lisbon was glad to have another female who she could talk light-heartedly to about the baby.  
With Riley, it was always a touchy subject that Lisbon tip toed around.

Lisbon was describing the ultrasound in minute detail to an entranced Michelle. She was just about to launch into an intricate explanation of the heartbeat when she heard tiny footsteps step hesitantly down the stairs.  
All four adults looked up and greeted Emily as she came in rubbing her eye.

She scrunched her nose up and looked around the room as if she was searching for something.  
"Where's Mummy?" she yawned gripping Ringo tightly against her side.  
Lisbon took her small hand and lead her to the kitchen. "Mummy had to leave. She'll be back soon."

Once in the kitchen, Emily let go of her hand and took a seat at the table.  
"What would you like?" Lisbon asked. "I can make cereal...pancakes…toast.."  
"Not hungry," she said sleepily laying her head against the table.  
"Not hungry?" Lisbon said concerned putting her hand over Emily's forehead. Her temperature seemed normal.

Lisbon brought her back into the living room and set her on the couch next to Foster. Lisbon went over and got Emily's crayons and colouring book and put them on the coffee table. She didn't touch the colouring book and after a few minutes, she walked over to the window and started searching.

"Hey Milly Moo," Alex said. "Come sit down and I'll colour with you."  
"Don't want to colour," Emily said not taking her eyes off the front garden.

Lisbon walked over to the window and crouched down next to Emily. "Sweetie, what are you looking for?"  
"My Mummy."  
"She'll be back soon," Lisbon promised. "Come sit down with us."  
"No," Emily told her quietly. She was acting very strange.  
"But its cold here by the window. Come on."  
Emily shook her head angrily. "No! I'M WAITING FOR MY MUMMY!"

All of them, even impassive Foster stared wide-eyed at the uncharacteristic behaviour she was displaying.

"Emily!" Michelle said shocked. "We do not yell at other people. Now apologise to Teresa."  
Lisbon saw Emily's lip start to tremble and moisture pool up in her eyes. "Sorry!" she said turning away from Lisbon and ran over to the other window.

Alex chuckled. "Temper, Mills," he said. "Well, its official. She's definitely Patrick's daughter."  
"Come here, darling," Michelle said. "And tell us whats wrong."  
Emily glared at them all and stomped over.

"I WANT MY MUMMY!" She snatched the remote control from the coffee table and threw it on the ground with as much force as she could manage clearly hoping that it would shatter into pieces. This effort only managed to make the batteries fall out.

"I WANT MY MUMMY NOW!" she yelled, tears streaming down her face, painting her cheeks pink.  
"How about we go upstairs and have some calm down time in your room?" Lisbon scooped her up and started to make her way to the door. She struggled in her arms and let out a blood curdling scream like Lisbon was burning her. She had NEVER behaved like this before. Lisbon had no idea what had come over her. Sure, she was attached to Riley. She was her mother, but they had been apart without it being a problem. She had no reason to act up now.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! MUMMY!"

A second later, Alex was dialing the phone. "It went straight to voicemail. They must be in a bad cell area."  
As Lisbon was making her way out of the room, Emily cried harder.  
"LEAVE ME ALONE! I DON'T WANT TO GO TO MY ROOM! I DON'T WANT YOU! I WANT MUMMY!"

Lisbon looked confusedly at them. "I have no idea whats going on."

By this point, Emily's face was fire engine red and she was choking on her tears. She could barely breathe. Lisbon sank to the floor with Emily in her arms and tried to calm her.  
"Emily…honey…Mummy just went out for a little while. She'll is coming back soon. There is no need to be upset. You know Mummy goes out all the time."

Michelle whispered to Alex to keep trying to ring Riley. Foster was looking utterly helpless, obvious he hadn't devised plans for this situation. Lisbon stroked Emily's soft curls and that was when she started thrashing on the ground.

At that moment, the front door burst open and a frantic Riley ran in, quickly followed by Cassidy. "What's the matter? What happened? Is she hurt?"  
"MUMMY!" screamed Emily at the top of her lungs.  
Riley, still panicked, took her into her arms just as she was reaching for her. Emily grabbed onto her neck and buried her face in her chest.

"Everything's okay, darling. Shhh," Riley whispered into her hair rocking her.  
"Lisbon, _what_ is going on?" Cassidy asked trying to make sense of the scene.  
Lisbon remained kneeling on the floor, silent and ghostly pale.

Emily lifted her head from Riley's shoulder and looked at her with endless tears still running down her face. Her lips quivering as she spoke.  
"Mummy, I promise I won't be a bad girl! I promise I won't be not good for you! Don't go away! Please! Don't leave me!"  
"Sweetheart, Mummy's not going anywhere. Nothing could tear me away from you. I love you."

Riley's calm voice seemed to soothe her. That didn't stop Emily from holding on to her with all of her might. Riley carried her into the next room. Lisbon didn't follow figuring that she would give them some quiet time together. After all, Emily didn't seem to want Lisbon anywhere near her. Lisbon was embarrassed that her eyes started to sting and she scrubbed them hurriedly.

She sat down on the couch between Foster and Michelle feeling utterly dejected. Everyone else was back into watching the game avidly. After a few seconds, Lisbon started crying uncontrollably into her hands. She felt Michelle pat her back warmly. The boys disappeared quicker than lightening.

"Don't worry, it happens to everyone." Michelle said putting her arm around Riley. Then, Cassidy came up behind the couch and put his hand on Lisbons shoulder. He laughed quietly and said, "There's always a silver lining in every situation. I should have filmed it. After seeing Milly carry on like that, I think Jill would be officially over wanting children."

Lisbon knew she was being ridiculous but it was like a stab to the heart knowing that she was of no comfort at all to Emily when she was in despair. She led herself into believing she was after the thunderstorm incident but apparently not.

Foster walked into the kitchen with his hands behind his back. Riley had her back up against the kitchen sink with Emily still in her arms. Her head was resting on Riley's shoulder. She had stopped crying, but her face was entirely tear-soaked. Her hair was all frizzy and matted from her tantrum on the floor. She was gently stroking her curls. Emily looked exhausted. Apparently fits of despair took all the get up and go out of you.

Foster pulled Ringo out from behind his back.  
"Hello," he said in an imitation of what a bears voice might sound like. He waved Ringo's tiny arm at Emily.  
She looked like she was about to smile but buried her face into her mothers hair.

Lisbon had collected herself by the time Emily came back into the room with Foster and Riley whose hand she was clutching onto. Emily pulled her over to the couch where Lisbon was sitting.

"Teaser," she said quietly biting her thumb. Her tiny voice was barely a whisper.  
"Yes, honey?"  
"I'm sorry that yelled at you and that I threw the remote control."  
She looked like she was about to burst into tears at any second. It broke Lisbons heart and she pulled Emily into her arms and hugged her to reassure her.  
"Its okay sweetie," Lisbon said rubbing her back. "I'm glad you're feeling better."  
Michelle walked over to her and ruffled her hair. "Oh these knots! We need to fix this right away."

"I want Mummy to," Emily said still sitting on Lisbons knee and holding Riley's hand. She was playing with her mothers fingers, gently twirling her wedding ring around and around. "I don't want her to leave me too."  
Riley knelt down and brushed a loose curl from Emily's forehead. "Sweetheart, I'm not leaving you. Why would you even think such a thing?"

Emily's breathing was still shaky. "Because he said you were."  
"Who?" Lisbon asked. If Cassidy or Foster had accidentally said something in front of her, she would unleash all hell upon them.

"The bad man who hurt Daddy." 

**Thankyou for reading! Please remember to review about the baby question. **


	15. Issues

_**Hey, I really want to thank **_**waterbaby134, ShunKickShunKers, dogeatdog, Anna, Jisbon4ever, MissNitaGirl**_** and **_**Hedwigeon4evva**_** for their very kind reviews last chapter and to everyone who read it. Here's a new little thing I'm starting: its called the baby tally. Basically vote for what gender you think Riley's baby should be and any baby name suggestions would be muchly appreciated too. Thankyou to **_**waterbaby134, ShunKickShunKers, Jisbon4ever, MissNitaGirl **_**and **_**Hedwigeon4evva**_** for helping it get started and so far it stands at: **_

**BOY**: 4  
**GIRL**: 1

**Name suggestions** **made so far**– _**Boy**_: Tyler, Mathiew(Matt for short), Henry, Patrick Jr (PJ for short)  
_**Girl**_: June, Ottavia(Otty for short), Shai, Lily, Cheyenne

_**Thankyou to **_**waterbaby134, MissNitaGirl, ShunKickShunKers **_**and**_** Hedwigeon4evva**_** for the names. So please cast your vote on the gender, vote for a name that's been suggested or suggest one of your own…...oh, and enjoy the next chapter of course…. (it's a bit short)**_

**ISSUES **

A young woman sat nervously adjusting her floral top which she wore under a suit jacket with dress pants. She hoped this attire was appropriate for an aspiring CBI agent though this hope was diminished somewhat when the security guard who she struck up a conversation with thought she was applying for the receptionist job that was currently open.

It was an easy mistake to make – she didn't look much like a potential police officer. She had a tall, slender body though not at all muscular or athletically built. Her pretty eyes, perfectly angular nose and well-shaped eyebrows were accented by her long red hair that she had pulled back in a professional-looking bun. Her looks were infuriatingly feminine and this 'gift' was her biggest downfall. So, yes. She did probably look like the receptionist. They usually put pretty girls like her behind desks to deal with people rather than tackle them to the floor.

The woman sat in a chair opposite a desk of one Teresa Lisbon in a bullpen full of desks, agents and ringing phones.  
The desk she was sitting opposite seemed to be unmanned although there was signs of someone having just left. A large polystyrene smoothie cup sweating with condensation was sitting on the desk and there was a stick of incense burning, the smoke wafting in long curlicues up towards the ceiling.

"Oh! Hi!"  
She jumped, startled as a raven haired woman came bustling up, a coffee cup in one hand and a stack of case files balanced precariously in the other, out of breath but talking anyway.  
"Sorry," Lisbon gasped, dumping the huge pile next to the smoothie cup. "I've been trying to kick my caffeine habit…" here she paused, sucking in a big much-needed breath. "…by switching to smoothies instead. Healthy, right? But then the headache hit and I could feel myself crashing and I just had to run down to the kitchen for a fix."

She took another big breath, now fanning her flushed face with a file. "But I'm here now. _Finally!_ I'm a one-woman operation, to my detriment at times."  
"Excuse me," another agent called out to Lisbon from a desk. "But is that a coffee you're drinking?"  
Lisbon's green eyes widened. "No," she called out over her shoulder cheerily. "Its herbal tea."  
"Are you lying?"  
"Would I like to you, Bosco?"  
"Yes."

Lisbon sighed. "Fine, fine. It's coffee. But organic, free-trade coffee. That's gotta count right? Me saving the planet and all."  
"The bet," Bosco said. "Was to give up all caffeine. You owe me ten bucks."  
"Fine, add it to my tab," Lisbon groaned then added to the woman: "I always lose. You'd think I'd learn to stop betting."

The woman didn't know what to say to this so grasped the opportunity to get a word in.  
"So…are you still hiring?"  
"Nope," Lisbon replied. "Sorry."  
The woman glanced down at the letter the Human Resources officer had given her just that morning.  
"But-"  
"Okay, maybe I am," she said. Behind her, Bosco coughed loudly. She turned in her seat and glared at him before saying reluctantly: "Yes. I'm hiring."

"All right," she said slowly.  
"But the thing is," Lisbon said shuffling the files into a neat pile. "I hardly have any hours to offer. And what I can give you is erratic because you'd have to work around my schedule, which varies wildly. Some times I might need you a lot, others hardly at all."  
"That's fine."

She put the files down and narrowed her eyes.  
"Look, I just need my files sorted and paperwork done while I'm on protection detail. This is boring work," she warned her. "Lots of sitting in one place while everyone passes you by. Its like solitary confinement."  
"Its not," Bosco said. "For Gods sakes."  
"I can handle it," the woman said as Lisbon shot him a look.

"Its like I said, I'm a one-woman operation," she added. "I don't even know why Minelli put in that request. I mean, I'm doing okay on my own."  
There was a pointed cough from Bosco's direction and Lisbon swiveled in her chair to stare at him.  
"Do you need some water or something?"  
"Nope," he replied. "_I'm_ fine."

"You know, don't worry about it," the woman said. "Thankyou for your time."  
She stepped back out of her chair, hoisting her satchel securely on her shoulder. Just as she was was about to leave she heard another cough followed by the loudest sigh yet.

"You have administrative experience?" Lisbon called out.  
She turned back. "I did filing and paperwork at the attorney general's office."  
"Have you had any interest in police work?"  
"I'm graduated from the police academy a month ago."

Lisbon had been about to fire off yet another question but hearing this, stopped. "Really?"  
She nodded and Lisbon looked at her for a moment during which time the woman wondered if she really wanted to work for someone who seemed so reluctant to hire her.

Before she could consider this though, Lisbon said; "Look, I'll be honest with you. I don't delegate well. So this might not work out."  
"Okay," she said.  
Still, she could feel her wavering. Like something balanced on the edge, that could go either way.  
"Jesus," Bosco said finally. "Will you tell the girl yes already?"

"Fine," Lisbon said throwing her hands up like she'd lost another bet, a big one. "We'll give it a try. But only a try."  
"Sounds good," she said and Bosco smiled at her.  
Lisbon still looked wary though as she stuck out her hand. "Teresa Lisbon."  
"Grace Van Pelt."

000

"It's more complicated than you think okay?" Lisbon snapped as Jane sat in the passenger seat of her car.  
"Really? It seems relatively simple to me," he said. "It's a yes no question."  
"I don't know, I guess….oh, I don't know if I love Dean," Lisbon said. _Who asks that anyway? _

"You don't love him then," Jane said simply.  
"Okay, Freud, how did you figure that?"  
"You would know," Jane said. "If you're in love with someone you know it. And besides the thought of you being in love with boy scout is lucrative!"  
"I think you mean ludicrous."  
"Do I?" Jane countered.

"Well if you meant that the thought of me being in love with Dean is profitable and rewarding, then yes, I am fairly certain you meant ludicrous."  
"Absurd and ridiculous was what I meant."  
"Then ludicrous is what you were going for," Lisbon said briskly.

"Sorry, I didn't go to high school Miss PhD!"  
"You don't need a PhD to know the difference between lucrative and ludicrous. You don't even had to have gone to high school," Lisbon said loudly and the car waiting in the lane opposite her threw her a worried glance.

"Returning back to the conversation," Jane began. "Why don't you break up with him?"  
"You need a valid reason to break up with someone."  
"I think his general knobness is validation enough."  
Lisbon sighed. "Okay, Jane. How would you break up with someone?"

Jane frowned in concentration. "Well, apparently if you leave them up to hang straight up that makes them want you more so I would go for a….different tack as you might say."  
"Which is?"  
"Well, you could always moan someone else's name right before you…"  
"Oh my god!" Lisbon said cutting him off. "You are so low you're subterranean."

"Well, at least I don't have major trust issues…and commitment issues…and issues in general."  
"I don't have issues!"  
"Please," Jane snorted. "You have more issues than _Rolling Stone_." 

Lisbon swung her car into a space at the preschool at little more angrily than intended. She got out of the car and strangely, she didn't feel a pang of shame and sadness when she saw preschoolers running into the arms of their parents. She was only focused on sliding her eyes across the sea of youngsters, pausing when she saw a blonde haired child until her eyes landed on Emily who was sitting on a bench twirling a shoebox decorated with stickers in her hands.

"Hey princess," Lisbon walked over to her and Emily smiled up at her. "How was your day?"  
Emily didn't answer. Her nose was scrunched up and her large sapphire orbs were scanning around Lisbon, clearly confused.  
"What's wrong, sweetie?" Lisbon asked wrapping her hand around Emily's small one.  
"Where's Mummy?" Emily said looking behind Lisbon as if she was hiding Riley.

"Mummy is at home making a cake for us," Lisbon said carrying her backpack for her. "I wondered if it was okay if I could show you where I work?"

Emily scrunched her nose up and Jane looked confused. "Why?" she asked.  
"I just want you to talk to one of my friends, he's got some questions to ask you," Lisbon said strapping Emily into the car seat she had installed in the back of her car. She hadn't told Jane about Emily meeting Red John. Knowing that Red John was in such close proximity to his precious baby would surely make him murderously furious.

"I guess," she said slowly. "Is your friend nice?"  
Lisbon went to say 'yes' and then hesitated. "He's…..not not-nice."  
"That makes no sense to me, Teaser."  
"I think you'll get along just fine," she said biting her lip. Patrick Janes child up against the CBI's best interrogator?

Lisbon wasn't sure whether it was going to be excruciating or entertaining. But hopefully they could get some answers about Red John. And she knew the man who could do just that.

**I know, fairly boring and short chapter but I'm trying to bring all the team together to work on the case. Baby votes still needed! **

**Next chapter – Emily VS. Cho! **

**REVIEWS LOVED!**


	16. Cho vs Emily

**Oh my goodness, I am so sorry for the temporary hiatus! It's been freaking MAD here. Thankyou all so, so much for your kind comments, you guys make me smile like an idiot when I read them. Anyway….I wrote this QUITE LARGE chapter to atone for my laziness but it was done so at 2:30am on an uncomfortable plastic hospital waiting room chair so it may not be up to my usual standard and there are probably quite a few spelling mistakes but, oh well….I love you guys and thankyou to ShunKickShunKers for making sure I wasn't bleeding from the head, love ya :)  
And to MissNitaGirl: because it looks like the majority of reviewers have chosen a boy, I did use the names you gave me in this chapter for a new character. So I hope you like her!  
I live for your reviews!**

**CHO VS. EMILY**

Lisbon was not lying. She was a total control freak, something that become more than clear to Van Pelt over the next few hours as Lisbon walked her through an in-depth orientation, followed by an intricate computer tutorial. Only after she'd endured both of these things –as well as a pop quiz on what she'd learned –and had Lisbon shadow her while Van Pelt logged on to the database and played around, did Lisbon finally decide to leave her alone while she went to get more coffee.

"I'll just be right here," Lisbon said walking backwards in the direction of the kitchen. "If you scream, I'll hear you."  
"I won't scream," Van Pelt assured her.  
Lisbon hardly looked convinced, however, as she walked away checking back on her twice before finally going in to the kitchen. Once she was gone, Van Pelt tried to both relax and remember everything that she had been taught.

"Ready to quit yet?" the agent named Bosco asked leaning against her desk, drinking his own mug of coffee.  
"She's a little intense," Van Pelt said shyly. "How do her other employees handle it?"  
"They don't," Bosco told her. "I mean, she doesn't have any others. Or she hasn't. You're the first."  
"Really?" Van Pelt said surprised and slightly flattered by this.

"She's needed help forever so this is a big step for her. Huge, in fact." He reached into his pocket pulling out a handful of small pill packs. "I'm Bosco by the way, want try some B-complexes? I think my wife has gotten every one on this unit on some vitamin. She's a health nut."

"Grace," Van Pelt said. "And um, no thanks."  
"Suit yourself," he shrugged putting them back inside his pocket. "Hey Rigsby! How those shark-cartilage supplements treating you? Changed your life yet?"  
She turned around and there was a young man walking towards them with a box. "Not yet," he said. "But I only just started them."

"You got to keep them up, man," Bosco said. "Every day, twice a day. Those aches and pains will be gone. Its miraculous."

The man, Rigsby, came and stood by them. She noticed that the man was rather attractive. She quickly stopped her train of thought. She had promised herself that she would never get involved in a workplace relationship again. Not after her heartbreak with Daniel…..

"Hey," he said brightly at her and she felt her kneecaps shake a little. "Rigsby. I'm in arson."  
"Hi," she said back trying not to giggle like a schoolgirl. Being a red head, it was obvious when she was blushing and she was sure that she was most certainly doing that now. "V-Van Pelt."  
"She works for Lisbon," Bosco said nudging him and Rigsby's eyes widened.  
"No way," Rigsby said incredulous. "Lisbon actually hired someone?"

"Why is that so surprising?" Van Pelt asked smoothing down her hair. "She had an advertisement."  
"For the last six months," Rigsby said putting his box down on a chair.  
"Tons of people have applied," Bosco said leaning against his desk. "Of course, she had a reason for rejecting every one of them. Too perky, bad haircut, possible allergies to the incense…."  
"She hired you though," Rigsby said brightly.  
"Only under duress," Van Pelt corrected.

"Which is why its so huge that she agreed to take you on," Bosco told her.  
"No kidding," Rigsby agreed, nodding. "Its pretty astounding. Maybe it's a chic thing."  
"Or perhaps our Lisbon has finally realised how close she is to a stress related breakdown. I mean have you seen how much coffee she's been drinking?"  
"I thought she switched to smoothies," Rigsby asked furrowing his brow. "You guys made a bet, right? "  
"Already caved. She owes me like, a thousand bucks now."

"What are you guys doing?" Lisbon demanded as she walked up, another coffee in her hand and swinging her keys around on her finger. "I finally hire someone and you're already distracting her?"  
"I was just offering her some B-complexes," Bosco said innocently. "I figured she'll need them."  
"Funny," she sneered sarcastically at him.

"You know," Cho said walking up to them and joining in on the conversation. "Personally I think that it's a great thing you finally admitted you needed help. It's the first step towards healing."  
Lisbon narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm nervous enough just letting you in the field."  
Cho sighed and Rigsby gave Van Pelt a 'told-you-so' look.

"So you calling it a day?" Bosco asked looking at Lisbons car keys which she was swinging on her pinky finger.  
"No!" Lisbon said shaking her head. "Theres still so much I need to teach Van Pelt. Like how to organise the computer data, the shift schedule, the right way to organise the files alphabetically…..."  
"Well, I'm sure that's doable," Rigsby smiled at Van Pelt warmly making her face go fire engine red.

"Not to mention," Lisbon continued. "The process for the weekly changing of the padlock code, alternating the incense so we don't run out of any one kind too quickly and our emergency response plan."  
Bosco choked on his coffee. "Your what?"  
"Our emergency response plan," Lisbon repeated.  
He just looked at her.

Lisbon's green eyes widened."What, you don't have a system in place as to how to react if there's a terrorist attack on the building? Or a tornado or fire? What if you have to vacate the building quickly and efficiently?"

Bosco, eyes wide, shook his head slowly. "Do you sleep at night?" he asked her.  
"Not really," Lisbon said. "Why?"

Rigsby sighed and stepped up beside her, his voice low in Van Pelt's ear, making little goosebumps rise there. "Good luck," he said. "You're going to need it."  
After recovering from this close proximity, she turned back bracing herself for the terrorism-preparedness tutorial but instead Lisbon had her jacket folded over her arm and was addressing Cho who was at his desk looking up from a novel.

"You're in charge until I get back," Lisbon told him as she glanced over her shoulder at Van Pelt. "I'm just going to go pick up a witness so you can have a talk with them."  
"Which case?" Cho asked marking his page with his finger.  
"Red John," Lisbon said shrugging into her jacket. "The case file's on my desk if you need some prep work."  
Cho nodded and returned to his novel. There was no witness or suspect he had failed to crack and he was confident that this one witness would not be any trouble at all.

000

"You're looking better," Foster commented as Riley walked into the living room. She was stressed and it showed. She had been running her fingers through her hair constantly in worry, making it messy and on top of that the pain medication had been wearing off making her head begin to throb again.

"Define better," she said pressing her palm to her forehead.  
"Well," Foster said shifting his chair near her. "Upright and conscious."  
Riley sighed and leaned her head down on the table. Never before has she felt this terrible. Even after delivering Emily which had been without question the most traumatic experience of her life, it hadn't left her this drained.

She had been severely worked up since Emily's little breakdown and Foster was certain that all that stress and anxiety couldn't be good for her baby. Also since she had been trying to be good and not consume any coffee, she was having caffeine withdrawal and was especially irritable. That's without counting the pregnancy hormones and medication.

He went to put his hand on her shoulder and tell her not to worry but stopped. Of course she was going to worry and she was perfectly justified to and no amount of comfort was going to prevent that. She looked up from her arm which she was resting on to see Foster with his hand in mid air looking like he wanted to say something. If he was going to say something along the lines of 'its going to be okay' or 'don't worry' she would hit him. Really, she was going to.

Just at that moment the doorbell chimed and Riley moaned mentally banishing the visitor into the fiery pits of hell. "I'll get it," Foster said standing up and then paused. "Unless you want to get it."  
Riley stared at him. Why shouldn't Foster answer the door?  
"No, that's fine."

Foster disappeared down the hallway and Riley laid her head back against the lounge and closed her eyes.  
She snapped her eyes open quickly and looked around, realising that this was the first time she had been alone without supervision in months. Surely it would be foolish to waste such an opportunity and she hoped that maybe the visitor was a Jehovah's Witness or roof salesman and would keep pestering Foster for a subsequent amount of time.

Riley went into the kitchen and took the phone off the bench and slid down the cupboard, sitting on the floor.  
She looked at the phone in her hand and wondered who she could call. She needed to speak from someone from her old life, not this new, nasty, 24 hour supervision, serial killer life.

Her fingers dialed the buttons that felt so familiar it was amazing just to be able to press them and anticipate the predictable answer.  
"M.E's office. Dr Shai speaking," a bubbly bright voice greeted and Riley's chest nearly exploded with gush of warmth that was surging through her at this safe familiarity.

"Ottavia," she nearly cried. "Otty, its me."  
"Riley?" Ottavia said as soon as she heard he voice. "Oh my god! What happened to you?"  
"Well," she said trying to keep her voice low and leveled but wanting to cry and scream at the same time.

But Ottavia was already continuing, her voice coming out in its usual gush.  
"I mean, we heard about your husband and then you kind of disappeared for ages and Rigsby said that he saw some cops take you out of work. And then I went by your house the week after and it was all dark and-"

"Everything's fine," she lied cutting her off more out of a time concern than rudeness. Otty was always summarising even when you knew the story better than she did. "We stayed at a different house for a while but we're back now."  
"Well," she said. "Its all anyone is talking about, just so you know. You should hear the rumours."  
"Yeah?" Riley said. It was just a comfort to hear someone else's voice.

"Its terrible!" she said sounding truly aghast. "They have you doing everything from committing murder to prostitution."  
"Seriously?"

"Of course, I've been sticking up for you," she added quickly. "I told them there was no way you'd ever sleep with guys for money. I mean, come on."  
This was typical Otty. Defending her honour vigorously while not realising that she was actually implying that Riley might be capable of murder.

"Well," she said. "I appreciate it."  
"No problem. So whats the real story? Is it your husband?"  
"Something like that," she said rubbing her eye. "Like I said, it's okay. We're doing okay."

Riley wanted so desperately to tell her it was not okay, that everything was horribly wrong and she had no idea how she was expecting to keep living. But she had already gotten herself in so much trouble and now Emily, Foster, Lisbon and Cassidy were with her too. Did she really want to pull Otty in?

"I was just calling to find out whether Cassidy's found a replacement yet?"  
Ottavia clucked her tongue. "No way. We're all waiting for you to come back, speaking of, when do you think you'll be back?"

Riley sighed and folded her arms around her stomach. "Soon, I hope."  
"Riles, I cant tell you how sorry I am," Ottavia said sympathetically. "We've all missed you so much."  
"I've missed you too," Riley said tears forming in her eyes and she tried to compose her voice.  
Riley heard voices come from the hallway.  
"Otty, I've got to go," she said quickly and hung up the phone. She stood up from behind the cupboards to see Foster walk in followed by a man pushing a trolley piled with three cardboard boxes.

She looked at them quizzically.  
"Apparently they're glasses," Foster told her. "For tonight."  
"Um," Riley said biting her lip. "For tonight?"

"I guess just here in the kitchen," Foster told the man who nodded and lifted the boxes onto the bench.  
"Sign here," he said gruffly. Foster signed and the man ripped off a sheet of paper and handed it to him and looked at Riley.

"Congratulations," he nodded at her stomach and she immediately pulled her cardigan together to hide it.  
"I'm not pregnant!" she exclaimed her eyes wide with innocence.  
The delivery man mumbled an apology in embarrassment and left quickly while Foster tried not to laugh.  
"You're evil," Foster told her and Riley bit her lip feeling slightly guilty.

There was a shout from down the hallway. "Alcohol delivery!"  
They both looked at it each other in confusion.  
"Riley," Foster said. "I don't suppose you remember anything about hosting a party?"

000

"_Why are we here? What are doing? What time is it? Who are we seeing? What are we doing here?" _

Lisbon groaned. Of course, she had been prepared for a whole manner of questions. It was general territory when dealing with four year olds. However it was not little Emily who was testing her patience – it was the elder Jane.  
Emily walked alongside Lisbon, silently and contently, swinging off Lisbon's hand with her little fingers, completely trusting. Lisbon ignored Jane who was peppering her with questions.

Lisbon approached the grave looking security guard, Joe, with her badge. Even though she had been working here for years, Joe still was a Nazi when it came to security and wouldn't let her in without her formal I.D.  
To her surprise, Joe's face softened when he looked down at Emily.

"Well, hello there," he said cheerfully kneeling down to her level.  
"Hi," Emily said back swinging Lisbon's hand back and forth. Lisbon was shocked. The Jane's must have some sort of voodoo gypsy powers to manipulate people. How else could Emily evoke such paternal, warm feelings from icy, surly Joe. He didn't even ask for her I.D and just let them through, ruffling Emily's blonde curls as she passed.

"Why did we bring her, Lisbon?" Jane asked for the sixty forth time. "Isn't she a little young for work experience?"  
Lisbon exhaled loudly trying to ignore him as she led Emily through the busy corridor. People were stopping mid-pace just to smile at Emily. _Damn her cuteness!_ thought Lisbon as she tried to pull her away.

She took Emily to room 209 and sat her at the end of the table. Emily looked a little confused and curious of her surroundings but did not doubt that Lisbon knew what she was doing.  
"I brought you a juice box," Lisbon said unwrapping the straw and placing it down on the table. "Are you hungry?"  
Emily shook her head and didn't look as though she was paying attention.

"Are you okay, Emily," Lisbon asked sitting beside her. "The only time you're this quiet is when you're asleep."  
Emily silently took Lisbons hand which was lying on the table and forced Lisbon to look straight into her deep never-ending blue eyes. She took a deep breath before beginning.

"Okay, tell me the truth, does Mummy had a bwain tumour?"  
Before Lisbon could answer this, Emily said quickly: "Don't lie! I'm a human lie detector. If you eyes look up to the right that means you're lying."

Lisbon had to make a superhuman effort not to look up to the right as she denied this theory.  
"You're sure?" Emily checked, obviously delighted but still wary.  
"Yes, Emily," Lisbon assured putting her other hand over Emily's. "Mummy is going to be fine. She's got a bad headache."

Emily smiled exquisitely and reached for her bag. "Can I make a get well card for her? While I wait for your friend?"  
"I think she would love that!" Lisbon exclaimed.

"Lis-bon," Jane moaned from the corner. The concept of not-knowing was so painful to him and having Lisbon keep him in so much suspense had been terrible.  
"I'll be back in a minute okay?" Lisbon said to Emily who was already busy at the table making a huge get-well card for Riley with textas and glitter from her school bag.

"Follow me," Lisbon said under her breath to Jane as she passed. She led them into an empty interrogation room and she shut the door.  
"Well?" Jane said confused. "Why is Emily here?"  
Lisbon bit her lip and paced to the other end of the room. "I'm not sure how to say this…."  
"Say what?" Jane said instantly worried by her tone. A thousand unpleasant scenarios ran through his mind varying between Emily in Foster Care to Foster marrying Riley.

"Its about Emily and Red John," Lisbon said slowly. Jane took a deep breath. No, those two words didn't belong in a sentence together. Emily. Red John. No, no, no. This was not good. This was not, not good.

"What about him?" Jane asked trying to brace himself for whatever horrific news Lisbon was struggling to deliver.  
"They…they've sort of…met."

000

Together Foster and Riley flipped to the date in the diary by the phone.  
"Kindergarten Cocktail Party?" read out Riley. "Seven pm. What does that mean?"  
"I'd say it means that its all the parents from Emily's class."  
"And _I'm_ hosting it?" Riley said somewhat hysterically.

There was no way she was going to host any Kindergarten Cocktail Party. It must have been something that Patrick had organised. He was always getting involved with school functions and parent meetings and such. He was much more the civil involved type than her.

Foster walked over to the kitchen and stopped in front of the fridge which was covered with magnets, notices, photos and Emily's drawings. "I wonder if there is an invitation here for this party of yours."  
"Here," he said picking something up. "Theres another womans name on the RSVP's. You should ring her and ask if she can change the party venue."

Riley nodded feeling butterflies in her stomach at the mere thought of it. This chronic shyness was a learned habit from her mother. It used to drive her father mad: Shannon and Riley and their fear of social events.

"Oh no," they'd say tragically as if someone had died and it would turn out that they had been invited to some party where they'd only know one person and then there would be the strategising about how to get out of it and the drama of it all and the sympathy they'd pour on each other. It was strange as Riley and Shannon of course were talkers. In reality, Patrick couldn't shut Riley up when she was off but her shyness stopped her from being the outgoing person she really was. She was like an athlete trapped in a wheelchair.

"Actually," Riley said casting aside the invitation and leaning against the counter and looking at Foster. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about.."

000

"It's okay, really! Nothing bad happened! It's all good."  
"DO NOT TELL ME THAT IT IS '_ALL GOOD'_!"  
"We're not even sure what happened yet, just calm down and-"  
"AND YOU PEOPLE CALL YOURSELF POLICEMEN? WHERE THE HELL DO YOU GET YOUR BADGES? OUT OF A CEREAL BOX?"

Lisbon sighed through gritted teeth. "Jane….I know you're angry but whats done is done and…"  
"WHY DON'T YOU JUST INVITE RED JOHN OVER FOR A CUP OF TEA? JUST TO GET TO KNOW THE FAMILY!"  
"Jane, I'm sorry but there really is no need to be-"  
"I CANT BELIEVE THAT I ACTUALLY TRUSTED YOU PEOPLE! I MEAN, AFTER WHAT HAPPENED WITH RILEY I SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SO STUPID!"

Lisbon sighed again and sat down on a chair. Jane was pacing back and forth, his fingers tangled in his hair and looking as if he wanted to hit something. Not that it was physically possible to do so which angered him more.  
He couldn't even imagine Red John being near his little girl. Looking at her. Talking to her. It was so horrifying it made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Jane?" Lisbon said after a few minutes of silence in which he continued pacing.  
Deep down, he knew it wasn't really Lisbons fault. None of it was. Truly it was his own fault for dropping this on his girls. But he was angry. So angry. More angry than he had ever been. Not even Foster flirting openly with his wife could even compare to the raw fury that was coursing through him now.

Lisbon stood up and walked past him, to the doorway. "After I find out what happened, I'll let you know," she said over her shoulder before she walked out. Jane wanted to say 'thank you' but it would come out sounding sarcastic and he didn't want to alienate the one person he could depend on at the moment.

000

"Riley, I don't know," Foster said crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the table behind him. "I think you should focus on your health for the time being."

"Its only going to be fifteen hours a week, if that," she told him sounding like a child. "And I'm used to working."  
"I'm sure you are," Foster said knowing that questioning her capabilities would only set her off.  
"But I've spoken to Dr Rowberry and you're stress levels need to be controlled. You need to make your health the number one priority."

"I can do both," she said.  
"You don't have to though," Foster said. "That's just the point. You're fine financially."  
Her nose scrunched up and her hands balled into fists and she was overcome with the desire to stamp her foot. Foster sighed.

"Riley, we are trying to help you, okay? You don't have to make things harder than they have to be just to prove a point."

She opened her mouth ready to tell him that she'd never asked for him to worry about her future or make it his problem. That she was an adult as well as being completely capable of making her own decisions about what she could and could not handle. And that being in her life for less than two months didn't make him her guardian or protector, regardless what it said on any piece of paper.

But as she drew in a breath to say this, she looked again at his eyes and stopped herself. It had been a long day for both of them and going further into this would only make it longer.

"Fine," she said. "We'll talk about it. Later, though all right? I'm tired."  
Foster looked surprised. He clearly had not been expecting her to agree, even with provisions. "Fine," he said.

000

Cho walked into the interrogation room and then was certain he was in the wrong spot. There was a small girl at the other side of the table drawing loops on the wood with her tiny finger. She put her hands in her lap when she saw him.  
"Hello," she said brightly and Cho stepped backwards into the corridor and nearly crashed straight into Lisbon.

"Problem?" Lisbon enquired.  
"Um, someone's left their kid here," he told her.  
"Oh, its mine," she said waving warmly at Emily.

Cho looked puzzled and she rolled her eyes.  
"Not _mine_ technically. She's the Red John witness I told you about."  
"Oh," Cho said, his brow furrowed as he glanced back at her. "Isn't she a little young to be interrogated?"  
"Interrogated is such a strong word," Lisbon said looking at the ceiling. "Just a little…firm encouragement is all she needs."

"Right," Cho said uncertainly.  
"Cho, she's four years old."  
Cho nodded and pulled himself together. A toddler wasn't going to throw his off balance.  
He stepped in again and sat down at the chair opposite Emily knowing that Lisbon was watching through the glass on the other side.

"Good afternoon," he said in a dead pan voice, not looking at her and keeping his eyes on the papers in front of him.  
"Hi," she said in her tiny voice appraising him curiously. "I'm Emily."  
"Cho," he mumbled back. He had never interviewed someone under the age of 20.  
She giggled and put her hand over her mouth to try and muffle the sound.  
Cho looked up curious to what she could find comical in this situation.  
"What?"

"Sorry," she said. "It's just funny coz that's Harry Potter's girlfriends name."  
She giggled some more.

"You read Harry Potter?" Cho asked her.  
She shook her head. "I'm too little to read all the words but my Mummy and Daddy would read me a chapter every night before I went to sleep. My favourite is when they are dancing at the ball."

"I like that bit too," Cho told her amazed that he had something in common with her.  
"Mummy and Daddy always skip the scary chapters because Ringo had a scary dream about the big snake so we had to sleep in Mummy and Daddy's bed for a week._ I_ wasn't scared though but he didn't want me to leave."

"So, Emily," Cho said getting down to business. "Can I ask you some questions?"  
"What about?" she said with wide blue eyes. "I'm not very good at questions. Especially maths questions."  
"That's okay," he said. "Just about the man who spoke to you."

Emily's eyes narrowed. "The bad man who hurt daddy?"  
"Yes. Where did you see him?"  
"At my kindy. In the playground."  
"What did he look like?"  
"I…I don't know…," she said her eyebrows knitting together.  
"That's okay," Cho said. "Anything you can remember is fine."  
"He had a red cap on and I couldn't see his face."

"What were you doing when he came up to you?"  
"I was waiting for Mummy to pick me up. I was making daisy-chains in the grass."

"And what did he say to you?" Cho asked.  
"He asked me if my name was Emily."  
"And you said yes?"  
Emily didn't like his tone. "Well, I wasn't going to lie! That's mean!"  
Lisbon suppressed a laugh at Cho's discomfort with this situation.

"Yes, I suppose it is," Cho said. "And then what did he say."  
"He said he was a fwend of Wylee's."  
"Who sorry?"  
"Wylee."  
"Who is that?"  
"That's my Mummy's real name!"  
"Oh sorry," Cho said, now understanding her poor pronunciation. "What did he say then?"

"He said he was taking me home that day and he took my hand."  
"Where did he take you then?"  
"To his car."  
Lisbon felt a wave of rage ripple through her.

"Did he say anything to you?" Cho asked.  
"Not really. But when he opened the door for me I got a bad, sick feeling in here," she rubbed her tummy. "And I asked why Ben and Froster wasn't picking me up."

"What did he tell you?"  
"He said that they was busy. And then he told me to get in now so I could go home."  
"Did you?"  
"No, I still had a sick feeling and he grabbed my wrist and said that we needed to go now. He squeezed my wrist tightly and it hurt so I started to cry and said I wanted my Teaser."

Lisbon's hand closed around the cool steel feel of her gun. She could easily have shot Red John in the face and enjoyed it right now.

Emily put her arms around herself. "He said I would be happy where he was taking me. He said he would look after me. I told him that I had my Mummy to look after me and he said..he.."  
"What did he say?" Cho prompted hoping he could rush through this in case she started crying and Lisbon came tunneling in here ready to blow his brain out for his insensitivity.

"He said that Mummy was going to go just like Daddy. I said he was lying and he laughed at me. And he had a nasty yucky laugh. Are you writing that down?"

Cho paused with his pen against the page.  
"Sorry?"  
"That he had a nasty, yucky laugh. You should write that down."  
"Oh..okay."

Lisbon's pocket vibrated and she pulled out her phone. _**DEAN**_. She made a face and pushed the END button.

"Then what happened?"  
"I told the man that if he took me that I would be a pest around him and that my Teaser would find him and put him under rest!"  
Lisbon smiled slightly.

"He let me go when I heard someone calling my name. It sounded like my Froster and he had his worried voice on. Then the man let me go."  
Lisbon stepped back from the glass. A murderous anger so fierce and sickening swept through her and for moment she knew what it must feel like to be Jane.

000 

Riley was lying face down on her pillow. Foster was downstairs phoning up that Kerrie Mason woman trying to get tonight's party cancelled. She felt so helpless. Never mind she was too shy to call a stranger up, she couldn't even protect her own child? What kind of parent was she? She knew that Cassidy, Foster and Lisbon would make sure Emily was safe as possible but essentially wasn't that her job? She felt so messed up and confused that she had no idea how to even begin trying to find her way back to being a proper mother.

She crawled across the bed and pulled back the covers and slid between the sheets still wearing her clothes. She looked at the ceiling (plastered and painted; the water stains and cracks were gone, as if they'd never existed). With her mind still buzzing and screaming at her, she drifted into a restless sleep.

She woke to find Michelle sitting at the end of her bed holding something.  
"Hello sleepyhead."  
"Hello," Riley said stretching her arms over her head. Michelle handed her a wrapped gift.  
"You probably wont like it, but I wanted to get you something."

Riley sat up in bed. "Of course I'll like it." She unwrapped a bottle of talcum powder. "Lovely." She twisted the lid, poured some into her palm and sniffed it. The scent was simple and flowery and reminded her of nothing. "Thankyou."

"You're welcome sweetheart," Michelle said draping a cardigan over Riley's exposed shoulders. "Now that lovely Lisbon has discussed with me making you an eating and sleeping chart while your pregnant. I think it's quite a good idea to monitor these things."  
Riley repressed the urge to roll her eyes as she walked downstairs.

Alex and Foster were talking pleasantly and Riley noticed that Foster had his jacket slung over his shoulder and his keys in his hand.

"Where are you going?" asked Riley desperately. She needed support to help her cope with Alex and Michelle.  
"Just out for a little while," he told her.

"Are you coming back?"  
Foster gave her an odd look. "I'm meeting some people for lunch. But I'll come back if you like."  
"Who?" asked Riley, trying to keep him there for longer. "Who are you meeting?"

"Just some friends," he said evasively. "Anyway, make sure you listen out for the phone because I've left three messages for that Kerrie Mason about tonight's party but she still hasn't called back." He looked at Riley. "You still seem very pale. I think you should go back to bed after."

"Oh, I agree!" said Michelle as she walked in carrying a glass salad bowl. "I'm packing her straight off to bed after lunch, don't worry. We need to get her fully recovered before that little terror is back!"

Foster left and Riley was left to being fussed over by her in-laws. Luckily just before Michelle was about to launch into her tale about how playing Bach and Chopin to newborns makes them intellectual when they are older, the phone rang.

"Hello?" Riley answered, glad for the distraction whatever it was.

"Renee? Kerrie! I've just been doing a million things at once and I've only just now picked up Daniel's messages. I was so worried when I heard you were in hospital this morning! I've been telling everybody and I meant to call you but I've been run off my feet right now as you well know but then Melanie said you were home so I thought 'Phew, she's okay!' But now Daniel says you're possibly not well enough to host the party?"

Riley recognised the terribly cultured voice. It was the sleek blonde woman from school. And since when had Foster been 'Daniel'?

"Of course normally I'd say no problem! Have it here! In an instant! But with the renovations and Sams mother staying with us, its just literally, physically impossible. I mean you don't have to do a thing tonight, you really don't, if you've still got a bit of a headache. I'll take care of everything. I have to admit I haven't been feeling that well myself but I'll be alright just a touch of the flu. Melanie said to me: "You're a superwoman, Kerrie, how do you do it?" and I said; "Well, no Melanie not a superwoman just an exhausted woman trying to do what she can". Sam says I just need to learn to say no and stop putting myself out for everyone but I cant help it, I've always been that sort of person. Anyway, as I said, if you're head is still aching: I promise you can just put your feet up tonight and we'll rush around and bring you drinks. I mean, its not like you have to cater or anything."

A strange inertia had crept over Riley as Kerrie spoke. Was this woman really Patrick's friend? Riley couldn't imagine wanting to talk to her for more than five minutes. She'd take Lisbons brisk and bossy snippiness any day over this womans prissy sweetness with its razor sharp edges.  
"O-okay," Riley stammered.

Who cared if hundreds of strange people turned up on her doorstep tonight? Her life was a nightmare and she may as well let it continue on its nightmarish way.

"We don't need to change it then? Well, thank goodness! I knew I could rely on you! I mean, Patrick was always so amazing at parent events and I knew you'd have to be the same. It's such a sadness to hear of his passing, but the show must go on as they say! Anyway, I must dash but I look forward to seeing you tonight darling!"

The line went dead and Riley listened to the disconnected tone before anger washed through her and she slammed the phone down so the cradle shook.

"Is everything okay?" Alex asked uncertainly.  
"Everything is fine," she said. "I told that Kerrie Mason we could still have the party here."  
"You did?" Michelle said, eyes wide. "Are you sure you're up to it?"  
"Oh, sure," Riley said and felt her voice break slightly. "Sure. Why not?"  
They just looked at her like she was insane.  
She sighed, knowing she probably was.

**Phew. Well, that is the raw unedited version that I have just completed so hopefully its not too bad. Next chapter I'm giving Lisbon another love interest and more Jane/Lisbon interaction as this one didn't have all that much in it….  
Anyway, I live for your reviews so please, please leave your thoughts. :) **

**Lily xoxoxoxoxoxooxoxx**


	17. Party Pariah

**PARTY PARIAH**

Lisbon glared at reluctantly at the iron in her hands. She, being experienced in the world of firearms and high tech weaponry, had never come across a device so infuriating, so dangerous and so god damn difficult to master. But two burnt silk shirts later, she was beginning to get the hang of it, so much so, she decided to be brave and iron the blouse and skirt she was going to wear to this kindergarten party thing tonight.

To be honest, it felt good to her to do this sort of normal householdy thing. As much as she had no desire to become a 60's housewife with floral apron and high hair to boot, she wished she could be better at normal wifey things. She was concentrating very hard, her eyebrows narrowed and she frowned at the crease in the collar of her blouse that was being stubborn.

"Come on you stupid useless block of metal!" she said frustrated flattening it against her shirt with all her strength.  
"Is the iron a better conversationalist than me?" Jane said behind her. Lisbon peeked through the curtain of wayward hair that had escaped her bun to see her annoying ghost perched on her kitchen counter with a grin of a 5 year old boy.

"The iron is evil," Lisbon frowned down at it. "I swear its out to get me."  
"You said that about the oven," Jane said hopping off the counter and leaning against it, folding his arms across his chest. "And the washing machine, and the shower, and the toaster and…."  
"Okay, so appliances in general are out to get me."  
"Yes, I'm sure that's it," Jane grinned, amused.  
"Don't you patronize me, Patrick Jane," Lisbon said pointing the iron at him warningly.  
"Or?" Jane challenged, an excited glint in his eye.  
"Or.." Lisbon said. "There's always the foolproof Foster threat?"

Jane scoffed. "Please, woman. My Riley would never even consider that buffoon. Not when she's grieving over the one true love of her life," he said grandly gesturing at himself. "How couldn't she? Handsome, smart, gentlemanly.."  
"Modest too," Lisbon rolled her eyes sarcastically.  
"Of course," Jane said examining his nails.

"Well…" Lisbon trailed off. "I wouldn't be too confident…Riley's probably going to look nice tonight and Foster isn't exactly unattractive. And she is a gorgeous grieving hormonal widow…who knows what can happen."  
Jane glared at her. "That unworthy moody long eyelashed idiot with my Riley? Over my dead body."  
Lisbon scoffed.  
"….in a manner of speaking, of course."

Jane paused and sighed. "Speaking of unwanted arrogant imbeciles…."  
"Teresa?" Dean called out to her.  
"In here," Lisbon called back to him before turning back to the ironing board. "Go," she hissed at Jane tucking strands of hair behind her ears.  
"What? And miss the amusement? I think not."  
"I'm serious, boy!" Lisbon said threateningly.

"Who are you talking to?" Dean said puzzled as he came in.  
"No one," she smiled turning to him and pulling his waist against her. "I'm glad you're here. I haven't seen you in ages."  
"Yeah," he said rubbing the back of his neck. "I've been busy."  
"So that's what they're calling it these days…" Jane said in the corner. Lisbon ignored him but her fingers twitched in his direction.

"Well you're here now…" Lisbon smiled kissing his neck.  
"Bleeugh!" Jane wrinkled his nose and made a disgusted sound. "Someone please get me a bucket!"  
"You don't have to stay here!" Lisbon hissed at him over Dean's shoulder.  
"What?" Dean said puzzled.  
"Oh, I meant just…you didn't have to come visit me. But thank you, I'm glad you're here."  
"Yeah me too," Dean smiled. "It's been a while since I've been able to hold you like this."  
"Forget the bucket…..MK47, anyone?"

Dean put his hands behind Lisbons thighs and lifted her onto the ironing board while kissing her and she wrapped her legs around his waist happily, trying to ignore the retching noises from Jane.  
"And that's my cue to leave," Jane said nauseated. "Remember to be safe, kiddies."  
Finally he was gone, and just for a few moments Lisbon forgot about Jane, about Red John about everything and just felt loved. Just for one blissful moment.

000

"Lisbon, what's that on your arm?" Minelli asked when he walked past her doing the filing.  
"What?" she asked tugging down her sleeve.  
He walked over to her and stretched her arm out.  
"Whoa, that's some burn you have there," he commented on the iron shape burn on her arm.  
"Oh, yeah, that," she said awkwardly.  
"How did you get it?"  
She felt her cheeks burn.

"Oh, general housework that sort of thing."  
"It looks like the shape of an iron."  
"Yeah, I accidentally left it on and….it burned me," she mumbled.  
"Lisbon," he sighed.  
"I know."  
"You should be carefully next time."  
"Er, yeah." she said her face burning with mortification. "I will be."

Rigsby was in the doorway looking at her all knowingly as Minelli walked out of the bullpen again and down the hall.

"Embarrassed?"  
"No," she said her red cheeks betraying her as she straightened some papers.  
"It's a sex injury isn't it?"  
"What? N-no." The papers tumbled out of her hands.  
"Mmm-hmm, why are you going all red and funny then?" he asked smiling.  
"I'm not…It's….Its hot in here is all," she said fanning her face with her hand.  
"Sure, sure."  
"You are so…" she started.  
"Was it worth it though?"  
"What are you talking about?" she snapped.  
"Was the sex worth your arm getting burned?"

"Oh Jesus, I am your superior and I am not listening to you!" Lisbon said slamming the drawer shut.  
"Don't be shy, do you want to see my sex injury?" Rigsby offered. It was only fair since he'd seen hers.  
"No, I do not want to see your sex injury!"

"Are you sure? It was with a gothic chic in a graveyard. She did some pretty creative things with her teeth…" he said pulling his shirt upwards.  
"No I do not want to see your sex injury, Rigsby. And for gods sake, Rigsby, LEAVE YOUR SHIRT ON!"  
"What are you guys talking about?" Cho said walking in and placing a cardboard box on his desk.  
"Nothing," Lisbon said quickly.  
"Sex injuries," Rigsby smiled. "Gothic chic. Graveyard. Pointed teeth. Beat that."

"Easily. I had an allergic reaction to this girls body glitter and I was swollen everywhere. I couldn't move for…"  
Lisbon looked up to the lord for support.  
"What?" they both said.

Lisbon threw her hands up in the air exasperated and went into her office. Men.  
"Problem?" Jane grinned spinning around in her chair like a child.  
"Yes," she said putting her palms on her desk. "If Minelli heard…"  
"Lisbon, you're like thirty and been in relationships, I think Minelli knows by now that you've…"  
"Must be discuss this now?" Lisbon peeked out of the blinds looking for Minelli.  
"When do you want to discuss it?"  
"Um preferably never, ever again. I think I'd rather forget this mortifying moment forever."

"Lisbon's first ever sex injury," Jane clapped his hands together. "Our little Teaser's growing up,"  
"I will kill you," she turned on him, eyes blazing. "I really will. I'll do it now."  
"That's your problem right there, St Teresa," Jane said putting his hands behind his head. "You're too serious. Therefore too easy to be made fun of."

"Sorry some of us actually grow up sometime in their lives," she wrinkled her nose and grabbed her jacket. "Now if you don't mind I'm off to this party of yours. Hopefully there are some adults there capable of mature conversation. It should be a refreshing change I think."

Lisbon walked out to see Rigsby and Cho still arguing about sex injuries and the level of 'coolness' that theirs were. She decided to show that she was capable of not being serious….occasionally. Rigsby was demonstrating with graphic hand gestures what uncomfortable injuries were caused by fangs.

"A graveyard? Even I'm not that amoral," Lisbon said whacking a paper file over his head.  
"Oh, an iron burn? At least I don't have lame sex injuries." Rigsby laughed.  
"Well, I've never had sex with a vampire!" Lisbon retorted then realising that comeback did not sound as lame in her head.

"She wasn't a vampire." Rigsby frowned.  
"She did sleep in a coffin and claim to be undead," Cho contradicted from his desk.  
"Oh hark whose talking. A chic with body glitter? Where did you hire her from?" Rigsby asked.  
"I didn't hire her. She was in a band. A singer, actually," he said reminiscently.  
"A glittery singer for what? Playhouse Disney?" Lisbon teased.  
"I'd stick to the bedroom if I were you. Lisbon. Clearly, anywhere else is too hazardous for someone like you," Cho commented thoughtfully.  
"Next time, you bring a girl home be sure to run through with her your extensive list of allergic reactions. I'm sure that won't be a mood killer." Lisbon said back.  
"Oooo!" Rigsby said clapping his hands.  
"Coming from the guy who rolls around with his vampire over peoples graves." Cho shot at him.  
"Again, she wasn't a vampire. And I was careful not to hit any headstones," Rigsby smiled like this was a major accomplishment.  
"How big of you." Lisbon rolled her eyes.  
"If you hurt yourself that badly in the laundry room, I'd hate to see what damage you could do in the kitchen." Rigsby said.

"Says the guy with bite-marks over his neck and chest. Are you immortal too, now?" Lisbon asked and realised she was laughing so hard that tears were beginning to form in her eyes. Cho and Rigsby were laughing hard too. With all the drama and angst going on, she forgot how good this was. Just teasing and laughing with her team. She didn't realise how much she missed this.

"What's up?" Van Pelt said curiously walking in with a large stack of boxes. This all made the three laugh even harder. Lisbon sighed, jaw aching from smiling too much, despite the comfort of Dean's arms, Jane's carefree laugh, Riley and Emily's love….this, here and right now, made her feel like she was home.

000

"Lisbon! Who did this?" Jane said shocked at the scene that was Lisbon's bedroom. The entire contents of her closet were spilling out all over the floor and hanging off various pieces of furniture, across her bed, flung over the mirror and even a tanktop hanging from the ceiling fan. The dresser drawers had been pulled out and emptied and the dressing table contents were also in disarray. Perfume bottles and articles of jewellery littered the floor.

At first, Jane worried that perhaps Red John or some other nemisis Lisbon was currently fighting had come looking for something subsequently ransacking her room. He wondered if she had some kind of hidden information she had been keeping from him.

"Lisbon are you okay?" he said suddenly rushing over to her as she joined him wearing her bathrobe and carrying a hairdryer. Her weapon, perhaps, against the ransacking serial killer.

"I'm fine," she said slowly, giving him a strange look as she worked a comb through her wet hair. "What are you doing here anyway?"  
"I...have you….who did this?" he said waving his arms about at the disaster zone.  
"I did?" she said slowly trying to ascertain his mental incompetence.  
"But…it's….completely trashed. What were you doing?"  
"Getting ready," she sighed flopping agianst her bed covered in clothing. "I have nothing to wear."

Jane started open mouthed at her. He had never seen so many clothes in his life. It was like _Macy's_ just in Lisbons wardrobe.

"You have HEAPS of clothes!" he said exasperated.  
"Having heaps of clothes and having something to wear are two completely different things, Jane," Lisbon told him as she held a black beaded top against her and surveyed her reflection in the mirror. Unfortunately, she had lost the battle with the iron so she was limited in terms of non wrinkled garments. Jane just stared at her in confusion and exasperation.

"Do you mind?" she snapped at him as she threw a pair of jeans at him. "Sorry," he mumbled, still bewildered, and left her to change.

Lisbon was in a surprisingly uplifting mood when she arrived at Riley's house that evening. Not only because she had actually laughed today for what seemed like the first time in months, she also looked drop dead gorgeous. She had decided to wear her black slip dress and beautiful gold jewellery and gold high heels that, she wasn't going to lie, looked freaking amazing.

When she got back to Rileys house the driveway was packed with cars and the front door was open, bright light spilling out onto the steps and down the walkway. As she came closer, she could see people milling about.  
She walked inside where it was warm and lovely as always though different somehow. Emily's toys where packed away, no cups lying about, crayons rolling across the floorboards, all traces that a messy little girl resided here were non-existant.

She smiled at the guests, pretentious looking well manicured folk holding wineglasses and chatting amoungst themsevles. Lisbon couldn't find Riley anywhere though. Or Foster or Cassidy for that matter. She knew that Jill was minding Emily for the evening. Something Emily had been incredibly excited about given Lisbon's tough restrictions of Emily's out of house activities.

000

"_...all I can say is, acupuncture works. What? No, it doesn't hurt at all."  
"…so that was it. I decided that night, no more blind dates. I don't care if he's a doctor."  
"…only thirty thousand miles and the original warranty. I mean, its such a steal."_

Riley had been walking through the party for little more than twenty minutes nodding at people who nodded at her. Even though the people seemed nice enough, she was more than happy not to have to talk to anyone until she heard a familiar voice and therefore someone to cling to through this social torture.

It was becoming unbearable. All those people tonight, trooping happily through their house, helping themselves to glasses of champagne and tiny canapes from white-aproned caterers (who turned up at 5pm, taking over the kitchen, blandly efficient), standing around the backyard in little groups, high heels sinking into the grass.

"Riley!" they said so familiarly, kissing her on both cheeks. There was a lot of kissing. People talked about petrol prices (how could there be anything to say on such a boring topic?), property prices, development applications and some political scandal. They talked about their children – 'Lauren', 'Isabella', 'Adam' – as if Riley knew them intimately. There were hilarious jokes about some school excurison that she'd apprently attended where things had gone hilariously wrong.

There were serious, lowered voices about some teacher everybody hated. They talked to her about jazz ballet lessons, saxophone lessons, swimming lessons, the school band, the school fete, the canteen, the extendsion class for 'gifted and talented students'. None of it made any sense. The conversations were so detailed, so many names, dates, times, and acronyms – the PE something class, the WE something teacher. On two occasions different women hissed the word 'botox' in Riley's ear, as another woman walked past. She couldn't be sure if it was a contempous insult or an envious compliment.

It didn't really seem to matter all that much that she didn't recognise a single person. Nodding and smiling seemed enough to keep conversation flowing while Riley kept getting distracted by things in her own backyard. The failed vegetable patch in the corner. The swing set creaking gently in the evening breeze – Emily used to slide down that slippery dip into her arms when she was a baby. Thinking of that tiny blonde baby with the rosy cheeks and fearful look of exhiliration as she zoomed down the slide reminded her of another little baby that would soon be joining them.

She subconsciously pulled the hem of her black sweater down and she was talking or more accurately listening to Kerrie Mason wearing distractingly large diamond earrings and a man. The topic was homework and how much of a strain it was on the parents. Riely sighed a breath of relief when she noticed that Lisbon was standing next to her, joining in the conversation. Lisbon's shoulder was angled slightly in front of Riley, as if protecting her and the baby from the rest of the crowd.

"It's three am and I'm sticking paddle-pop sticsk together to make Erica's early settlers house and I tell you, something inside me just snaps." Kerrie clicked her figners and her diamonds flashed.

"I can imagine," Lisbon had murmured, although she couldn't. Why hadnt this Erica kid done her own homework? Or why hadnt they done in together? Lisbon imagined laughing happily with a sweet daughter while they glued together pallde pop sticks and drank hot chocolate. Also, Lisbon was great at that sort of thing. Her kids early settlers house would be the best in the class.

"Well, they've got to learn discipline, havent they? Isn't that the point of homework?" said the man. "These days you can just google anything."  
"You cant google an early settlers cottage made of paddle pop sticks into existance. Anyway, I bet you don't have to help them with their homework, do you?" The woman then gave Riley a womanly 'Men!' look which she tried to return (she knew for a fact Patrick had always helped with Emily's homework). "No doubt Laura has it all done by the time you get home. Though I remember one Patrick saying that he always..-"

The woman stopped herself midsentence with an exaggerated wince of embarrasment. "Oh, I'm sorry, Riley. How insensitive of me."  
The man gave Riley a brief brotherly hug around the shoulders which she winced away at and Lisbon's fingers twitched. "It must be so hard for you. With this whole baby thing too."

Riley had been horrified. Did everyone know she was pregnant. Was it public knowledge in this strange, cliquey circle?

Foster had appeared from nowhere, gently exctricating her as if he had a freaky sixth sense about feeling her discomfort. She was starting to rely on him. She even found herself looking for him in the crowd on occasion, thinking vaguely to herself w_here is Foster?_

Foster was only there because Riley told him that she would have a panic attack if he didn't come which would be a breach of his duty of care if he allowed such a calamity to occur.

"Would you like to go see Cassidy?" he asked leading her away from Kerrie, the man and Lisbon. Riley nodded appreciatively, her cheeks still mortifyingly pink. Cassidy was even huger and grizzlier. He looked like a woodchooper who had escaped from a fairytale picture book and he was particularly conspicuous amongst all the other smooth-faced men with their neat buttoned down shirts and gym toned shoulders.

Lisbon hadnt circulated much as the night progressed. It was strange, Lisbon cradling a drink and sticking to the door. When she was younger, she used to march her way from person to person at parties as if it was her duty to talk to every single person.

"Oh you have the most gorgeous eyes Riley darling," Kerrie had said stumbling into the poor girl a few hours later. Kerrie's rounded vowels become even rounder the more she drank so by midnight she sound like the Queen. Riley couldn't stand her. Kerrie had been pestering her about information of her and Foster's 'relationship'. It was rather annoying.

"Why don't you go lie down for a little?" Foster suggested after about half an hour. "You look exhausted."  
Riley only felt exhausted once he said that. She had been distracting herself with various objects and inner thoughts but now she considered it, her head was throbbing, her legs so very sore and her stomach was swirling uncomfortably.

"No, no, it's okay," Riley assured. "I'm fine."  
She wasnt good at social events or socialising with people in general. That was always Patricks thing. But she was certain that the hostess couldn't just go to sleep through the event.

"Oh yes you are," Lisbon said behind her. "You look like you're about to collapse."  
It was said in the one of those Lisbony you're-not-getting-a-choice-in-this-matter voices so she thought it best not to argue with her.

000

As Riley walked up the stairs, she heard the music. At first, it was just a guitair, strumming, but then another instrument came in, more melodic. She looked out the window and saw Foster.

He was sitting on one of the kitchen chairs playing a guitair, a beer at his feet, Cassidy with a banjo nodding beside him as they went into an acoustin version of Led Zeppelins' 'Misty Mountain Hop'. His voice, she realised, was not bad and his playing was actually pretty impressive. So strange how Foster kept surprising her. All things she might never have known.

Thinking this, she scanned the crowd until she spotted Lisbon standing just outside the kitchen door. She was smiling, looking much happier than the last time she'd seen her. At some point, she had pulled her hair back making her look even younger and she had on a soft looking sweater.

Riley looked around at the carefree people in the crowd and then continued to her bedroom thinking of Lisbon. Psychology had never been a branch of science she was particularly interested in. Too subjective for her taste. But nonetheless, as a scientist, she had dabbled in it. That and reading people was a survival instinct she had to learn in her childhood and tolerate in her marriage. Teresa Lisbon was a typical case study. Riley could just tell. Probably lost a parent, perhaps both. Left a lot of responsibility from this loss followed by some kind of personal tragedy in her teenage years. She probably had run away from it all to get where she is now.

Riley wondered what it must be like to actually get to start again, forget the world you knew before and leave everything behind. Maybe it had even been easy.

_Easy_. She had a flash of herself, telling Emily that her father had been killed.

How much had Riley thought about Patrick? Not as much as she should have. All this time she'd been so angry. At everyone and everything. She knew it was easier to be angry, it kept other emotions at bay for now.

Was it really this easy once you escaped to just not care?

Riley suddenly felt tired, overwhelmed, everything that had happened in the last week hitting her at once. She was glad for the enclosed space of her room. She just needed to sleep, she told herself kicking off her shoes and sinking down into the bed.

She closed her eyes trying to shut out the singing and doing all she could to push herself into the darkness and stay there til morning. When she woke up, she wasn't sure how long shed been asleep hours or just minutes. Her mouth was dry, her arm cramped from where she had been lying on it.

As she rolled over, stretching out, her only thought was to go back to the dream she had been having, which she couldn't remember other than it had been good, in that distant hopeful way unreal things can be. She was closing her eyes, trying to will herself back when she heard some laughter and clapping from outside. The party was still going strong.

When she walked over to her window, she saw the crowd had dwindled to about twenty people or so. Foster remained plucking a few notes as people chatted around him.  
It was cold outside at least to her and she turned back to her bed. But then she realised there was something familiar about what he was playing; it was like it was tugging at some part of her, faint but persistent, a melody she remembered that had been her wedding song.

"_What day is it and it what month? This clock never seemed to alive." _

It was Lisbon. Teresa, her voice pure and beauitful as it worked its way along the notes that they had both heard so many times. She thought of how strange she had felt earlier thinking she had just forgotten everything. But this was scary too, to be engaged in anything that prompted a stream of meomories rushing back too fast to stop.  
she felt a lump rise in her throat but even as the tears came she wasn't sure who she crying for.  
Teresa, Patrick, Emily or maybe, just her.


	18. We are moving

Hi everyone,

Just a little information on the future of this fic for all of Lily's friends and the story followers. Writing this story and being able to have people read it really was the highlight of each of her days especially since she met so many lovely Mentalist fans through reviews and private messages but since then her health has been compromised significantly and her recovery doesn't really give her the chance to finish it on her own which she feels really terrible about so we're editing it and writing it together on our joint account _theaveragegatsbys. _I've edited and uploaded Chapter 7 already and hoping to upload daily so she can get started on the many ideas she has for this AU. Thank you for all the patient people and we hope that previous readers of the story will enjoy the rest.  
Thanks so much,

Ivy-Jean and Lily. 


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